


Grudgingly Accepted

by Statari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mind Games, Mind Meld, Slow Build, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Statari/pseuds/Statari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was strange, like he was living someone else's life, powerful and haunting.  It was not his own, for when he thought back on the Vengeance, he felt guilt.  When he dreamed of it, he was enraged and driven to madness.  It was no ordinary dream.  They hadn't been ordinary for a couple of days at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters have not been beta'd by anyone but myself, so if you spot mistakes, or your willing to take a look at things for me, just let me know! Hope you enjoy.

He dreamed of the hospital for weeks after he was released but they were not dreams of his own hospital stay.  Strangely enough, the machines were quiet.  They did not beep comfortingly to signal the steady beat of his heart.  The sunlight that had streamed in through the window wall in his own room was replaced with shadowy darkness beyond a pool of light.  There were no doctors bustling past his door every few minutes.  There were no harried but flirtatious nurses hovering over his bed.  There were just two figures in the dark, radiating a bone-deep sadness he couldn’t shake, even upon waking.  And the last thing he remembered before opening his eyes in the morning was the press of lips on his forehead and the rough fabric of a well-loved stuffed animal.  

Kirk had to shake his head to clear away the cobwebs between his ears.  The emotions that came with the dreams felt strange, like he was feeling someone else’s; they were powerful and haunting.  

“Captain.  Are you well?” He heard Spock ask with a nearly hidden note of concern.  Glancing up, Kirk realized that the turbolift had arrived on his floor.  Spock was standing beyond the open doors with his hands hanging neatly at his sides and a faint furrow between his brows.  Wow, he must really look like shit, then.

With a bright grin, Kirk stepped swiftly out of the left and started down the hallway.  “I’m fine, Spock.  Why do you ask?”

Spock kept pace with him easily.  “I apologize, Captain.  It’s just that you seem to be distracted.”  

Kirk directed a mildly exasperated glance towards his First Officer and huffed, “Well, there _has_ been a lot going on lately, in case you haven’t noticed.  Between Khan’s trial and you know… being _dead_ , I’ve had quite a bit to deal with.” 

“Captain, if you require someone to speak to...” Spock began, causing Kirk to pause in the middle of the hallway and regard his First Officer with incredulous, raised eyebrows.  Surely his Vulcan wasn’t offering to let him cry on his shoulder about being dead.  Spock hadn’t so much as let it slip that he’d been mildly upset about it since he’d gotten better, even though Kirk knew for a fact that he’d been upset enough to go on a vengeance-fuel rampage.

“Starfleet employs a wide variety of professionals who would be able to advise you on the best possible course,” Spock finished somewhat weakly.  

Kirk huffed a laugh and shook his head.  “Look Spock, I’m gonna be fine, alright?  I just need to get back to work.  Being dead has really put a cramp in my style.”

Spock dipped his head in wry acknowledgement.  “I’m sure not being able to hurl yourself head first into danger has been quite disconcerting.”

People said Vulcans didn’t have a sense of humor but Kirk called ‘bullshit’.  His Vulcan, at least, was the snarkiest bastard on board the Enterprise, which was saying something given that Bones was also on board.  Sure, sometimes he could be as dense as a black hole but every so often Kirk got the impression that Spock was just fucking with them to watch everyone flail to explain the complexities of human vernacular.  

“Better watch out Spock,” he warned playfully as he pushed open the doors to the meeting room, “I’m liable to do something stupid.”

“Shocking.” Spock said dryly before following him in and saluting the Starfleet Officers gathered there.  

Admiral Barnett sat at the head of the table, looking as grim and no-nonsense as he’d had when Kirk stood in front of him accused of cheating on the Kobayashi Maru.  Although, from what Kirk could tell from the summons, this was bound to be better news.  Hopefully not a gut check like his meeting with Pike had been, shortly before his death.  And _fuck_ , did it still hurt to think about Pike.  Maybe he should actually consider talking to a shrink if it was going to hit him this badly every time.  Shrugging it off, Kirk saluted the board and stood upright and cocky in front of the command brass.

Barnett stood and saluted the both of them before waving his hand at the two empty chairs on the end of the table near the door.  “Have a seat,” he advised.

They did, looking at the faces of the admirals around the room.  Most of them were carefully neutral like the face of any politician Kirk could distinguish a mixture of contentment and disapproval.  Pretty typical reactions to him, these days.

Admiral Barnett tapped a few times on his PADD and a second later, the glass table in front of him lit up.  He and Spock leaned forward to take a closer look simultaneously.  Kirk glanced at it, caught sight of the topic and began to scan the text quickly.

“As you can see by the documents in front of you, we have been considering the best choice of ship to carry out Starfleet’s first five-year mission to explore uncharted areas of the galaxy.  Make no mistake, this meeting is _not_ to assign this mission to you but to allow you to address of the many concerns we have regarding your record so far.”

Kirk looked up, leaving Spock to continue reading as the Vulcan could read faster than he could and still carry the thread of a conversation.  At the mention of Kirk’s record, several faces around the table soured noticeably.  His misadventures since being made captain had not endeared him to the admiralty as much as his defeat of Nero did.  His mother’s brief but largely congratulatory vid had ended with a warning that the romance of his heroism would wear off eventually.  If only she could have warned him that it would wear off and then some.

“Well, whatever I can do to help.”  Kirk shrugged with an easy, unconcerned smile that he didn’t really feel.  He would be perfect for the five-year mission and he wanted it more than he’d wanted anything in his life so far.

Another few taps on Barnett’s PADD brought up the mission reports from Nibiru.  His and Spock’s were up front with a report from Pike to one side, noting the discrepancies.  Kirk fisted one hand and leaned back in his chair.  He’d forgiven Spock for the whole thing but it still brought up a great deal of bitterness because the whole situation was what got him demoted in the first place.   And now it was looking as though Niribu would be thrown in  his face at every turn as proof of his inadequacy.  He wanted to jump right into defending his actions but forced himself to remain quiet and wait for the Admiral to speak.

Barnett’s eyes were hard and without pity.  “The missions you have led for Starfleet up to and including your actions concerning the inhabitants of Nibiru have brought up concerns that perhaps we promoted you too soon.  Admiral Pike, before he passed, mentioned that you might benefit from service as a First Officer until you settled and became less reckless with the lives for which you are responsible.  Even if we allow you to resume control of the USS Enterprise, some believe it would be extremely irresponsible to assign you to a five-year mission in deep space where you would be largely unsupervised, representing the entirety of the Federation.”

The admiral paused and Admiral Komack to his left picked up with a look of disgust.  “You have shown consistent disregard for the rules laid out for you by those more experienced than you, eventually going so far as to disregard the Prime Directive.  Interfering with the development of primitive cultures has proven to be dangerous for both them and us, a fact you seem to conveniently forget whenever it suits you.  Starfleet is not here to indulge your ego, Mister Kirk.”

Kirk’s teeth began to ache from the force with which he ground them together.  Luckily, he did not have to speak because Spock beat him to it.

“I have worked with Captain Kirk for awhile now and I believe I am uniquely qualified to address the matter.”

Kirk could only marvel at how perfectly calm his First Officer looked when he spoke, like he wasn’t defending Kirk’s right to be a captain in a room full of people who could bust them both back down to Ensign.  

“I, too, once believed that Kirk’s primary objective at Starfleet was to build his own reputation and gain the attention and admiration of  his peers.  I believed him to be reckless and arrogant, unfit to be a member of Starfleet, much less deserving of the honor of being promoted to acting First Officer during the battle with Nero.”

“Wow, tell ‘em what you really think, Spock,” Kirk muttered under his breath.

Spock continued as though he had not heard him.  “However, after working with him on a long-term basis, I have come to understand the motivations behind Kirk’s actions.  I believe he acts from a genuine desire to help people, both those less fortunate than himself and those he considers to be friends.  Any reckless actions of the past are largely due to his youth and inexperience, both of which are being addressed.”

Admiral Komack frowned with displeasure but Barnett look intrigued.  “Go on,” he insisted.

Spock inclined his head.  “Captain Kirk shows a remarkable willingness to learn and often heeds the advice of his command crew, myself included.  In the past when he has ignored advice or acted against orders, it was with valid reason, whether I agreed with it or not.”

Kirk knew he was gaping, full-on mouth open, eyes wide gaping but he couldn’t help it.  He didn’t think he’d heard Spock say something so… _nice_ about him _ever._  And now he was saying it willingly in front of witnesses who’d take it to heart and (hopefully) use it to justify granting him this mission.  Man, just when you thought you’d seen it all.  

Admiral Barnett shook his head sadly.  “I’m afraid that it is Captain Kirk’s inexperience which concerns us most.  So far he has shown great talent for combat and tactics but the situations in which Starfleet requires a warrior are thankfully few and far between.  The majority of our operations are exploratory in nature and rely heavily on diplomacy, something you have shown disregard for so far, Mister Kirk.  Given that any crew embarking on a five-year mission will likely be responsible for first-contact scenarios, I’m sure you can understand our concern.”

A female Admiral whose name Kirk did not know off the top of his head, regarded them carefully.  “Your test scores from school have shown a more than adequate aptitude for the handling of diplomatic situations but you have demonstrated a lack of patience for the procedures since going into active duty.”  Refreshingly, she seemed to only question it in a concerned manner, rather than accusing him.  

“Sometimes I don’t see the point,” Kirk said honestly.

Kirk really didn’t need the pointed clearing of Spock’s throat to understand that he’d said the wrong thing.  The scowls on some the faces around him was really quite enough.

“Look, I understand the value of Starfleet’s procedures,” Kirk continued, changing tactics.  “You’re all conveniently leaving out the dozens of missions I carried out successfully between Nero’s attack and the events on Niribu.  Most of those were missions that required diplomacy.”

“If you believe yourself to be experienced in and respectful of Starfleet’s procedures, why did you disregard the Prime Directive, interfering with the natural progression of life on Niribu and allowing a primitive race to see the starship Enterprise?”

Kirk rubbed his forward and barely glanced at the admiral to his right who’d asked the question.  “I had to do the right thing,” he murmured to himself.

“I beg your pardon?” Admiral Komack asked sourly.

“I had to do the right thing,” Kirk said louder this time.  “Which isn’t always the correct thing.”

“Clarify,” the female Admiral prompted.  

“I agree that my diplomacy skills need a bit of work but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the value of Starfleet’s procedures.  I do.  If I didn’t, I would never have tried to bring Khan in alive for a proper trial and we’d all be fighting the Klingons right about now.”

There were pained looks around the table as the admirals were reminded of the betrayal of one of their own and the subsequent death of another.  

Admiral Komack just scowled and Kirk was beginning to really dislike the man.  “The captain’s chair is not the place for you to work your way through a hot-headed reaction to the rules.  It has been my suggestion to the board that you be removed from your rank and placed somewhere more suitable to your age and experience level.  Lieutenant, perhaps.”

“Lieutenant!?”  Kirk shot forward in anger, half a breath from telling Komack where he could shove his rank.  “I’m not- I-”

Barnett interjected before he could continue.  “This is only _one_ option we have before us,” he reminded the room.  “We are here to discuss our options so that the best possible decision can be reached, both for you and for Starfleet.”

Kirk stood up, earning confused looks from almost everyone in the room, the most subtle of which from his probably former First Officer. 

“Look,  I haven’t always made the best decisions but I’ve done alright.  When you’re out in space, things happen quickly and you can’t always rely on someone else to come and save you, especially in deep space.  That’s where me and my crew would be perfect for this mission.  We work well together and we can adapt quickly.  That’s what makes us valuable. I don’t always make the best decision as captain but, like Spock said, I’m trying.  I was a fool on Niribu and ignored Commander Spock’s advice.  I was a fool when Marcus gave me those torpedos and I ignored Chief Engineer Scott’s advice.  But now I realize how important they are to my captaincy.  If you return me to the Enterprise, I promise you I won’t be ignoring their advice again but I _will_ continue to think creatively and act on the _right_ thing to do, not just the correct thing.”

There was silence as the admirals processed Kirk’s little speech with a variety of reactions from shock to disgust.  Kirk took a breath to drive home his point about being the best possible choice for the five-year mission when the door opened behind him and a young woman with an elegant pencil skirt stepped in.  

“Admiral Barnett, sir, you have a call.” Her emphasis on the word ‘call’ made it clear that it was from someone extremely important.  Once she got the admiral’s confirmation, she stepped out again.

Barnett stood and tugged his uniform straight.  The other admirals slowly followed suit.  “Thank you for your time, Captain Kirk.  We will deliberate on the testimony provided by you and Commander Spock and inform you of our decision as soon as we have reached one.”  With that, he saluted to Kirk, Spock, and the rest of the admirals before walking around the table towards the door.  He subtly beckoned for Kirk and Spock to follow him out the door as he passed.

Out in the hallway, Spock shared a questioning look with him as they waited for the admiral to finish saying his piece.

“Look,” Barnett said rather more frankly than he had in meeting, “I’m still not sure if giving you this mission would be the best choice but, God forgive me, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.  Understand that this will be the last time I stand up for you, Kirk.  And please, if you want me to have any chance at succeeding, stay out of trouble while the board deliberates.”  He gave Spock a cursory  nod and then turned to follow his secretary, who was standing down the hall with a PADD in her hands.  

“Think you can manage a week, Captain?” Spock inquired.

Kirk grinned.  “For a five-year mission to deep space?  I could manage two.”

 

\----

 

That night, he dreamed of the Vengeance but not from the time he had been on it.  Across the control panel, on the view screen, he could see San Francisco, beautifully gleaming in the sun, rising up to meet them.  He could see the flashing warning signs indicating that a safe landing wouldn’t be possible.  He could hear the alarms going off all around him.  But most of all, he could _feel_ the rage and despair that consumed him.  He’d lost everyone, every single thing in this world that meant something to him was gone in a flash of light from the cargo bay on this very  ship.  He was going to die without them anyway.  He might as well take people responsible for this entire tragedy with him.  Starfleet.  Screams and the smell of smoke and blood.

Kirk shot up in bed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  He was going to kill them!  But who?  Kirk scrambled out of bed in confusion and threw his pillow across the room from the sheer need to cause damage and exert energy.  The pillow thudded useless against the bare wall of the temporary Starfleet apartment and fell sadly to floor.  Kirk slumped back down on his mattress and dragged his hands through his hair.  What was happening to him?  

These dreams weren’t his, that much was clear.  Not even his own active imagination could pull this off.  He was dreaming of _Khan_ of all things.  That had to be it because although he’d been inside the drive core at the time, he knew the logistics of what had happened as Khan brought the Vengeance down in San Francisco.  

What bothered him most, though, was how real everything felt.  Kirk dreaming of the situation would have felt guilty about all the people who died.  He really, _really,_ wouldn’t be volunteering to take a step inside the mind of a psychopath.  But that’s what it felt like.  It was no ordinary dream.  They hadn’t been ordinary for a couple of days at least, ever since he began sleeping soundly on his own without painkillers or sleep aids from the hospital staff.  

Biting his thumb, Kirk sat there in the dark with a forcibly blank mind.  He could barely allow himself to think it.  But… He knew what it felt like, vaguely.  Standing in another’s shoes, thinking what they were thinking, feeling their loss as his own…   Well, that was eerily similar to the Vulcan mind meld that Old Spock performed on him when he’d been forced to feel the loss of Vulcan from the perspective of an actual Vulcan.  It was similar and yet… different.  Kirk rubbed his forehead.  He couldn’t really describe it.  

“Computer, time,” he groaned, his voice scratchy from disuse.

 _04:34_ came the mechanical reply.

Kirk flopped backwards on the bed with a groan before rolling over and heaving himself off the bed.  He got dressed in sweats and a t-shirt in the dark before slipping out of the building onto the quiet streets.

By the time he found himself outside the Officer’s Quarters the sun was weakly lighting up the morning fog.  It was still early but the Vulcan rose promptly at 05:30 every single morning to do meditations before going into work.  Don’t even ask him how he knew that.  So when he knocked on Spock’s door, he answered, awake and dressed in simple clothes with a heavy Vulcan robe over top.

“Morning Spock!” He said brightly, slipping past his confused First Officer to grab an apple from the bowl on the counter.  He bit into it with a loud, obnoxious crunch and grinned.  “Hope I didn’t wake you.”  

Spock frowned as much as was acceptable for a Vulcan to frown and looked around his apartment as though to convince himself he was actually awake and letting this happen.  “No… I’m sorry, Captain.  Is there something with which I can assist?”

“Geez Spock,” Kirk bemoaned, taking another bite of the apple.  “It’s 6 AM.  Call me Jim.”

Spock gave him a look that clearly said he’d smile before he addressed his Captain so informally so Kirk relented.  “There’s something that’s been weighing on my mind since I woke up and I thought you might be able to help me out.”

At that, Spock looked uncomfortable.  “As I stated previously, Captain, Starfleet hires professionals if you feel the need to … talk, however if you feel more comfortable talking to me, I suppose I can make time to listen.”

“You suppose, huh?” Kirk laughed fondly.  “Don’t look so scared it’s not really like that.  It’s just… I’ve been having strange dreams.”

Spock looked like he was going to be sick which, for a Vulcan, meant both eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch.

“Again, not like that, Spock.  They’re not nightmares.  They’re more like…”  He waved his hand by his face abstractly.  “You know- those Vulcan mind thingies.  The other Spock did one when he gave the whole spiel.”

“A mind meld,” Spock said carefully.  

Kirk snapped his fingers.  “Right!  A mind meld.  You know, it feels intense, like you’re actually thinking and feeling what someone else is.  It’s like that.”

“Side effects from your meld with Ambassador Spock?” Spock asked carefully, as though not believing it.

“No.  I’m not dreaming about Spock.  I’m dreaming about…”  Kirk paused and then huffed in annoyance with himself.  “I’m dreaming as though I’m Khan.  I mean, it feels like I _am_ him.”

Spock frowned.  “Has this happened repeatedly?”

“Sort of,” Kirk admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.  When it became clear that Spock would wait for clarification, Kirk added, “I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing it with the little Harewood girl Khan saved too.  Stuffed bunnies don’t really seem like his thing.”

“Fascinating.”

Kirk waited for a couple of moments but Spock was lost in thought and offered no more on the subject.  So Kirk stood and wandered around the apartment.  It appeared to be fairly standard issue, all function no style.  Whatever personal touches Spock might have added during his so far short stay weren’t out in public.   He really took the fun out of unobtrusively snooping.

“It is possible that you now share some kind of connection with Khan now that you’ve had a transfusion of his blood but I’ve never heard of it happening in this manner.  And the theory behind this does not account for what you might be experiencing in regards to Miss Harewood.  I could look into it and perhaps contact a few experts with Starfleet who might know of something.”

“No.”  Kirk snapped swiftly.  Then, feeling mildly guilty, hung his head and apologized.  “I’m sorry Spock.  I’d just rather keep this to myself for now.  I don’t want anyone to use this as an excuse to keep me from being eligible for the mission.”

“Perhaps they would do so with good reason,” Spock reminded him gently.  “If there is a connection and if it goes both ways…”

“I know,” Kirk grumbled.  “Maybe he’s the one I should be talking to.  It’s possible he’s gone through this kind of thing before.”

“I would advise against that, Captain.  Khan is extraordinarily dangerous and-”

“You don’t need to tell me that, Spock,” Kirk interrupted irritably.

Spock pressed on anyway.  “And should he gain access to sensitive Starfleet information through your mind, perhaps it would be wise to keep you off active duty and as far from Khan as is possible.  Proximity could exacerbate the situation.”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out then, eh Spock?”  Kirk clapped Spock on the shoulder as he passed on the way to the door.

“Captain.” Spock called.

Kirk stopped because of the tone in his voice.  It was that slow, disappointed reminder that managed to convey more shame in one word than the entirety of one of Pike’s lectures.

“You told the admiralty that you would begin to heed the advice of your crew.  Do you intend to start tomorrow?”

Kirk hung his head and laughed.  “You know, you’re not going to be able to hold that against me forever, Spock.”

Turning around, he saw that Spock was still standing with his back to him.  Light from the window cast a dappled pattern of light from the rough fabric of his robe where it stretched over his shoulders.  But with the sound of Kirk turning around, Spock also turned so that they faced one another.  His face was clear and impassive.  Man, arguing with a Vulcan was strange.  

“Nor do I intend to, however, only hours after declaring to attempt a modicum of restraint, you insist on putting yourself in harm’s way again.  I am willing to follow you as my Captain as I trust your ability to make a decision when you have all the information but at the moment, I feel you are lacking the necessary information.”

Why did Spock have to make so much sense?  

With a heavy sigh, Kirk said, “Look, I don’t want to make this public knowledge yet.  It could be nothing but there are people out there who would blow it way out of proportion.  That leaves Khan as the only place we’re likely to get answers.  Would it help if you came with me?  Keep an eye on me?”  
Spock paused for a long moment and then nodded slowly.  “That would be an acceptable arrangement,” he agreed.  


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Khan finally appears and there is mind melding!

Khan’s prison was new, designed and built specifically to house the man who’d nearly  brought Starfleet to its knees.  He’d proven himself to be highly intelligent and ruthless in the pursuit of his goals so, it seemed, no one was taking any chances.  It was a miracle that Kirk and Spock were allowed to meet with him at all.  The hours of explaining and paperwork almost made the whole thing too irritating to pursue.  But Kirk continued with dogged determination and Spock’s savvy understanding of the logic behind bureaucracies.  

When they stepped out of the hovercar with its blacked-out windows, they were already indoors.  The room was vast and windowless and completely lit.  Not a single one of the many guards around the perimeter cast a shadow.  Their large, black guns looked exceptionally intimidating against the glaring white walls.

In the center of the room was an isolated glass cube raised off the ground.  Aside from the access point where the plumbing entered the space and the four corner supports, it did not connect to any other surface.  There were no partitions within the cube either, just bare, standard furniture.  From the car, over a hundred feet away, Kirk could see the rigid frame of Khan’s body standing in his cell.  He was dressed in black and appeared like a fly in a bowl of milk, easily visible and as vulnerable as a superhuman with advanced speed, intelligence, and strength could get.  

A guard dressed in white approached them with a white plastic bin in his hands.  “Place all unnecessary items in the bin.  This includes communicators, PADDs, pens, paper, or any other miscellaneous objects you may have on your person.”

He didn’t look like he was joking so he and Spock quietly divested themselves of their communicators.  Noticeably only to Kirk, Spock refrained from informing them about the tricorder he had.  No doubt he was bending the rules because he felt the tricorder was necessary, despite the fact that the guards would probably disagree.  

“Under no circumstances are you to approach the glass, is that understood?  Your visit will be video recorded but per the approval of your application for visitation, audio will not be recorded.  If you experience any difficulty or notice anything strange, signal for a guard at once.”

Kirk nodded his understanding of the rules but was already moving forward towards the glass cube and the prisoner within.  He’d dealt with this madman before.  He understood what he was getting himself into here.  Well, he understood it about as well as anyone could.  At least he’d been there and seen it all first hand.  A briefing really couldn’t prepare you for the way Khan fought like a wild animal and barely flinched beneath your most powerful punch.  No way these men knew that hitting him felt like hitting an angry elephant.

Khan was standing near the glass with his hands behind his back and his eyes sharp on his visitors.  Kirk had to fight the urge to swallow nervously under that severe blue gaze.  They were certainly on the spot now.

With a small tilt of his head, he greeted them.  “Welcome to my temporary dwelling.  Forgive me if I do not offer you a chair.”  He aimed a glare at his guards which, no doubt, had nothing to do with his inability to be hospitable and everything to do with the way their escort smirked cruelly before turning away.  Kirk was a fan of just desserts but he’d been on the other side of the bars often enough to know better than to rub it in.  

Khan wasn’t finished.  He looked back at Kirk and tilted his head to the side.  “What can I do for the illustrious Captain Kirk and his faithful _friend_?”

The way his gaze slid over to Spock like grease was disconcerting.  Kirk wanted to hit him again, even though his hand still ached from the last time he had.  “I have a question for you,” Kirk said.

Interest sparked in his eyes as they flicked back to Kirk.  He grinned maliciously.  “Do tell,” he mocked.

Kirk glanced at Spock, still trying to figure out how best to phrase his question so as not to reveal too much or become too embarrassed.  Spock’s face was as impassive and unhelpful as ever, the unflappable bastard.  So Kirk swallowed his nerves and met Khan’s gaze squarely.  “You gave a little girl a transfusion of your blood not too long ago.  I need to know everything you know about possible side effects.”

Khan’s resulting smile was wide and full of teeth like an animal baring its teeth rather than a man’s genuine smile.  He shook his head and narrowed his eyes.  “No,” he crowed.  “You’re here because you need to know about the dreams, don’t you?  Have you found them… enlightening?”

With a frown, Kirk replied, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Khan.  I’m here because there’s a little girl going home soon who might put herself and others in danger.”

Khan rolled his eyes.  “Lucille Harewood is of no danger to herself or anyone for the time being and whether or not she becomes one in the future is a decision entirely of her own making.  Now, unless you’d like to discuss your real reason for being here, I’ll ask you to leave.  This pretense of yours is tiresome.”   And with that, Khan turned his back on them and walked towards the glass on the other side.

“By the way,” Khan called out, “Please convey my sympathies to your uncle.  That car was an expensive piece of art even in my time.  I can only imagine how much it was worth when it finally met with its demise.”

Kirk’s head jerked back in surprise.  “How did you know about that?” he asked, swiftly and angrily, circling around the glass cube until he could see Khan’s smug face once again.  “Those records were expunged so even if you looked up my file-”

“Don’t be dull, Captain.  The dreams go both ways.  As you experience moments from my life, I experience moments from yours.”

“I’m what?” Kirk forgot to pretend he didn’t know what Khan was talking about.

“The dreams are echoes of moments in my life.  Since the crude infusion of my blood, you, Lucille, and I are connected in a similar way to the one in which I am connected to my crew.  Not to the same extent of course, an infusion cannot rewrite your DNA, but it has not left you unchanged.  Is it not fitting that you should return from the dead a new man?”

His gaze was cold and penetrating, making it difficult to resist squirming beneath it.  The news was so foreign, like something out of a novel, that he had trouble processing it as though it were a truthful and informative explanation.  A blood connection that made them dream of one another?  This wasn’t some Orion romance story, it was the 23rd century where science made it clear that those things were not only unlikely, but near impossible.  

“I was not aware the Augments had a biological basis for telepathic behavior,” Spock interjected, the picture of professional curiosity.  “None of the literature concerning that period has made mention of such side effects.”

“And I suppose you’ve read it all, little Vulcan scholar?”

“I have.”  Only Spock could say that with sincerity and not sound boastful.

“Well, our manufacturers would not have written about it because they were unaware of its existence.  We did not speak of it with outsiders lest it be used against us.  You are the first to know of it and not be a part of it.”

“If it affects the well-being of my Captain then, I assure you, I am a part of it.”  Spock narrowed his eyes grimly.  Kirk had to wonder what he’d done in order to earn such fierce loyalty from someone who barely managed to tolerate him on the best of days.  

“How does it work?” he finally asked after a minor staring contest between them.

“All communication within the biological body is a series of electrical impulses,” Khan replied, losing the majority of his ire as he slipped into education mode.  Not too different from Spock, after all.  “In order to improve physical and cognitive functions, Augments were given an upgraded system, if you will.  We were given hypersensitive receptors and more of them so that we could react based on a smaller stimulus.  It left us with the unusual and unpredicted ability to gain unspoken impressions from one another, even over great distances.”

Spock looked impressed and seemed to accept the theory as valid, at least for the time being, because he was clearly off in thought, analysing the possibilities.  Kirk, of course, jumped on the only thing that truly mattered.

“Hey, does this mean I’m going to get super powers?”

Khan gave him an exasperated look.  “You are likely to experience a number of benefits from the transfusion but they will no doubt be insignificant in comparison to the changes that my crew and myself underwent.”

“Cool,” Kirk grinned, pretending he only heard the word ‘benefits’ out of that.  But in reality, he was considering the possibilities and wondering if any of the benefits could be considered more like medical side effects in that they weren’t always welcome.  

Spock nodded in thanks for the information they’d received and said, “Thank you for your assistance.  We will return if we have any additional concerns.”

Kirk raised his eyebrows questioningly but Spock gave a minute shake of his head.  They would talk about it later where they couldn’t be overheard, either by Khan or his guards.  

“See ya, Khan,” Kirk said with a half-hearted wave his hand, already turning to follow his First Officer back to the car.

“I shall see you again shortly, Captain,” Khan replied confidently.  


\----  


They were back in Spock’s apartment.  This time they were sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the living room facing one another.  Kirk played with loose thread on the inseam on his jeans and glanced around the impersonal space once again.  His only experiences with other people getting inside his head, literally, had so far been unpleasant, inconvenient, and somewhat painful.  But that he could deal with.  Pain was familiar and he could ignore the pain pretty easily.  No, he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to have his First Officer taking a peek at his thoughts and memories.  Those were private for a reason.

“Are you ready to proceed, Captain?” Spock asked politely.

“Yeah, fire away, Spock,” Kirk replied tensely.

Perceptive as ever, Spock raised an eyebrow and scrutinized him.  “If you are uncomfortable with this, we can try again later.  Perhaps with a third party…”

“No, Spock.  It’s fine.  If anyone’s going to be poking around inside my head it might as well be my First Officer.”  Kirk paused and fixed Spock with his most sincere look to show he was serious.  “I trust you, Spock.”

Spock replied steadily, “The mind meld does not give me permission to freely view your subconscious thoughts.  I will only be looking at the connection you now share with Khan and nothing else.  You have my word; your secrets will be safe from me.”

“Yeah, that’s-”  That’s not really the whole reason.  Kirk also remembered the distinct, crushing wave of emotion from another version of the Vulcan.  It had been overwhelming and for a moment, he’d been afraid that his small human mind would cease to exist.  Would it be like that again?  Would it be stronger because this was _his_ Spock, the one who belonged here and knew this version of him best?  Kirk rubbed his thumb across his forehead and shoved those fears aside.  “That’s great, Spock.  Let’s just get this over with, OK?”

With quiet nod, Spock reached out with one hand, his fingers spread out wide.  Kirk felt them press against the skin of his face, shifting around minutely as though searching for something located beneath the skin.  When they found it, they pressed in tight.

A gasp escaped from Kirk’s lips as his eyes slammed shut.  It was nothing like what he’d experienced with the other Spock.  Intense, yes, but gentle and searching in a way the other Spock hadn’t been.  Spock was like a trickle of water slipping between the cracks when compared to a tsunami.  

_My counterpart was in a rush._

It was strange to hear Spock ‘speak’ inside his mind.  People didn’t actually think in words so it came across as a series of images and emotions that flashed through him unbidden.  It almost felt like he’d lost control of his own mind, which was recalling things he didn’t want it to.  Before he could get too worked up about it though, a sensation of calm washed over him, projected, he knew, from Spock.  In his mind’s eye, it looked like the Milky Way, spread out across the vast and starry sky as could only be seen from space.  Spock was going to know him too well after this, he just knew it.

_Here is your connection with Khan._

All of a sudden, Kirk was back inside the white, windowless warehouse but this time he was staring out at the guards from behind a glass wall.  His sharp eyes could see tiny vibrations of light across the smooth surface separating him from the room.  Fury welled up inside him.  He couldn’t control it.  It couldn’t be controlled.

Unable to do anything else, he swung at the wall in a fit of rage and when his fist connected with the glass, a surge of electricity shot up his arm.  The pain was as intense as breaking a bone and it whited out all thoughts and emotions, even the rage.  He saw red, though, as the glass changed color for a moment before fading away to clear.  The guards on the perimeter of the room hadn’t even blinked, as though they were used to seeing this.

Kirk gasped again, although it might have just been the final moments of the gasp he’d started the experience with.  He wasn’t really sure.  All he knew was that he was back in Spock’s grey, inoffensive living room, sitting in a pool of weak San Francisco sun.  His heart was racing uncomfortably in his chest; it felt as though he’d been running.  “What was that?” he finally managed to ask.  He barely recognized his own voice, it was so scratchy and hoarse.

“I apologize, I was not anticipating that reaction.”  Spock looked quite shaken, for a Vulcan.  It must have been extremely unexpected if Spock didn’t anticipate it.  The guy broke scenarios down into likely percentages, for Heaven’s sake.  

Spock took a steadying breath.  “Blood transfusions are standard procedures and pose little to no problem for most patients.  Blood, though vital for survival, has certain limitations when it comes altering the body’s primary chemistry.  I was expecting for the results of your connection with Khan to be temporary, as a direct result of the transfusion.  It ought to have gotten weaker as time went on before becoming nonexistent.”  

There was a ‘but’ to that statement.  Kirk could hear it, Spock just didn’t want to say it.  So he said it for him.  “But…” he prompted.

“But,” Spock conceded, “It appears we need to speak with Doctor McCoy.  I believe whatever changes might have occurred as a result of the procedure are physical, not mental.”

Kirk sighed.  “Fine, Bones it is.”

\----

It took a couple of days for them to explain to Bones what had happened and get the tests and samples that Bones felt were necessary.  A full hour of that time was spent listening to Bones chide him for being fool enough to keep this information from his doctor.  Side effects, he called them.  Kirk knew it.

“Alright,” Bones said by way of greeting as he came into the exam room where Kirk sat, flipping through a medical book on allergic reactions.  He dropped his PADD and tricorder down on the exam bed next to Kirk’s hip and flicked the screens on one side to life.  

“First of all, Spock was correct in saying that complications from blood transfusions are generally predictable and avoidable, even for someone with your extraordinarily bad luck.  As far as we could tell based on the tests we could run on the Enterprise, Khan’s transformations took place as a result of gene therapy and radiation as a child.  By this point, the effects would be permanent and generally harmless to others.  However, upon further investigation, it appears as though some of the changes, at least, were introduced with a virus which attacked and converted host cells.”

Kirk frowned and put the book down.  “So, what you’re saying is that I’ve been infected?”

Bones grimaced.  “In a sense, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Kirk asked flatly.  Bones’ medical interventions hadn’t always gone as planned but he’d always known what was happening.  It was one of the reasons Kirk trusted him so implicitly.

“Yeah,” he hedge further before groan in surrender.  “Look, normal blood transfusions use the nutrients in the plasma and that’s it.  It’s over.  But apparently at least some of Khan’s enhancements are like a blood disease.  And now you’ve caught it.  I can look for a cure but, I’ve got to be honest,  I’m not sure there is one.”

Kirk groaned and slid off the exam table.  “Well, thanks anyway, Bones,” he grumbled, reaching for his leather jacket.

“Now hold on just a minute, Jim.  There are more tests I can run.  I might be able to come up with some kind of anti-viral that converts the mutated cells back to their original function.  It doesn’t have to-”

“Look, while you figure all this out, I’ve got to live with one foot inside this madman’s head and he with one in mine.  Unless you’ve got something in your magic bag of tricks to keep me from dreaming, there’s nothing I need to stick around for, right?  You’ve got samples of my blood.  Call me when you figure something out.”  Kirk shrugged his jacket on perfunctorily and made towards the door, ready to shake these things off for a couple of hours.  Getting shit-faced ought to take care of it.  He never dreamed when he passed out.

As if reading his mind, Bones called out to him.  “Jim.  You need to take it easy.  We don’t know how alcohol could affect you at this point.”

Without turning around to face his best friend, Kirk’s body stiffened.  “I guess we’ll find out,” he gritted before opening the door and leaving Starfleet’s medical offices.    


When he stood in the bright sun on the plaza in front, he turned his face upwards and closed his eyes.  He really did try not to completely ignore Bones’ advice on medical issues unless it was really, really important.  But the thought of having to endure Khan’s helpless rage or Lucille’s despair was more than he could bear.  He had his own versions of those emotions chasing him night and day.  Feeling them even through someone else’s experiences reminded him of all the things he’d lost too.  So at the moment, it felt pretty damn important to find a way to suppress whatever bizarre connection had formed between him and Khan, no matter what Bones said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next - Kirk learns more about Khan's motivations. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

“Khan!”  Kirk shouted angrily, bursting out of the nondescript black car.  He stumbled almost immediately but caught himself and surged upright.  The alcohol in his system made him slightly unsteady but he was here on a mission.  He wouldn’t let intoxication keep him from it.  Hell, intoxication was probably the only reason he’d made it this far.  If he’d been sober, he’d have been smart enough to stay as far away from Khan as possible.  

“Khan!” he snapped again, looking around the white interior of the warehouse as though Khan might be hiding somewhere.  But no, once again the perimeter was lined with black-clad soldiers with weapons at the ready, every one of them glowing blue for stun.  Bastards.  If Khan escaped, then they’d need every single phaser.  

Speaking of Khan, there he was, sitting primly on the edge of his bed.  His back was ramrod straight, as though someone had shoved a pipe up his ass.  Maybe they had.  Maybe that’s why he was so damned grumpy all the time.  Bastard.  He didn’t even look Kirk’s way when he approached the cube.  

Kirk scowled and strode straight towards the cube, crossing the blue holo-line that indicated how close was too close.  Kirk didn’t care.  Lines were meant to be crossed.  Without slowing down, Kirk pushed right up against the glass and slapped his palm down flat on the glass that separated them.  

Squares of red light flared to life, spreading out and flickering in warning from where Kirk’s skin touched the smooth surface.  He could hear the rustle of clothing from all around him as the guards shifted uncomfortably.  No one made a move to stop him, though.

Khan’s only move in response was to glance at him sideways before returning to staring at… what?  Kirk looked off to his left, he didn’t see anything.  Well, maybe that window, but it was at least 12 feet up the wall and didn’t show anything except a swatch of overcast sky.  Boring and grey.  Kirk was far more interesting than that.

“Khan,” he growled somewhat petulantly, wanting the prisoner to at least acknowledge him at some point.

With a small sigh, Khan’s eyes slid closed.  He turned his face towards Kirk and opened them again.  “What can I do for you, Captain?” he asked with tired contempt.  

“You did this to me,” Kirk accused, glaring through the flickering red display on the glass that still warned the room of his contact with the glass.

“Wrong,” Khan huffed.  “Your doctor did this to you in a misguided attempt to bring you back to life.  So you can either thank him for saving your life or condemn him for corrupting your mind.  Either way, the responsibility his entirely his because he was no doubt aware that there could be side-effects from injecting you with a foreign substance.”

“Well, you could have said something,” Kirk complained, leaning his forehead against the glass.

“When?  Before or after your first officer bludgeoned me into unconsciousness?”

Kirk scowled, ready to remind him that any beating Spock had felt the need to bestow was well and truly earned.  Kirk’s own beating had been earned, after all.  It took a lot to get Spock going.

“Perhaps you would have preferred for me to say something after they brought me aboard,” Khan continued.  “Of course, that is when your doctor placed me into a medically induced coma, ensuring that I would not wake up and start all over again with the Enterprise.  So you see, perhaps if your doctor had thought to ask me about the healing properties of my blood, he would have known precisely what he was doing to you.”

“You were out of your mind,” Kirk blurted out, reminding the both of them exactly why Khan couldn’t have been asked.  Kirk winced at how stupid he sounded.  Out of his mind?  Why could he just say crazy like a normal person?  But Kirk knew the truth of it.   He’d been there, consumed by the madness in that strange, complex mind.  He’d felt the vicious satisfaction at seeing the destruction of San Francisco lying before him and he’d felt so, so much more.  More than just the events of the past few months.  Khan’s life stretched back so far… Kirk could barely stand it.  But not all of it was addled with rage.  Some of it was, in fact, so harshly logical, that Kirk thought even Spock would be horrified.  But beneath everything there was enough sadness and regret to suggest Khan wasn’t entirely insane.

Khan pinned him to the spot with a cold stare.  His gaze seemed to bore right into Kirk’s head and read his thoughts. “I daresay none of us were at our best,” he observed pointedly.

Admiral Marcus had clearly gone nuts with paranoia, Bones was probably in a panic, and Spock had gone ballistic enough to track Khan down and beat him into a pulp.  But those were only peripheral characters to Khan.  Right now, he was talking about Kirk and the state of mind he’d witnessed over the past weeks, where Kirk had been ready to die.  A high dose cocktail of fear, insecurity, and guilt had left Kirk flailing for answers, doing anything he could to seem as though he was in control of everything.  After all the mistakes he’d made that allowed for the tragedy in San Francisco, it had almost been a relief to enter into the warp core to fix it, knowing he’d die in the process.  

Kirk stepped away from the glass of the cube, not taking his eyes away from Khan.  Knowing that Khan knew how grateful he’d been to pay for his mistakes properly was difficult to swallow.  Pretty much everything that had happened since Niribu had made him realize just how fragile his new, young crew was.  For all their talent and strength, the connections between them were still weak and vulnerable.  They didn’t trust each other or rely on one another the way Kirk thought a crew ought to.  And it was all his fault.  He’d shown them that they couldn’t trust him.  Not really. 

“I need you out of my head,” Kirk insisted.  The very thought that someone else might be privy to this was distressing.

Khan tilted his head.  “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Kirk asked with a frown.  “People aren’t supposed to go around with someone else in their head all the time.”

“Perhaps _you’re_ not.”

“I mean, it’s really confusing to feel something and then realize ten minutes later that wasn’t something you actually felt, just something you were… wait, what?”  Kirk took a small step forward.  “What does that mean?”

Khan sighed and turned away, walking silently back to the bed where he lowered himself.  “It means that even though your people were never meant to share another’s life experiences, my people are another matter entirely.”

Pulling back, Kirk rounded the corner of the cube to get a better look at Khan’s face.  Man, he could really use a box to stand on or something.    “Your people, the Augments, they were designed to hear each other’s thoughts?  Why?  Hearing voices has never really been a good thing.”

Disgusted by Kirk’s seeming obliviousness, Khan only barely managed to not to glare him into a puddle.  He put in a good effort though.  “Efficiency.”  He did not elaborate.

Kirk pursed his lips. 

“Do not worry, Captain,” Khan continued only after some moments, his blue eyes distant and guarded for a change.   “Very shortly you will no longer be bothered by the impressions of my mind or of young Miss Harewood.  You will be alone with your thoughts once more.”

“I get the feeling you don’t mean that it’s going to wear off.”  Kirk grinned wryly and rubbed the back of his neck.  As nice as it would be for this thing to just go away, it had only been getting worse as time went on.

Khan’s eyes slipped away, no longer meeting his expression.  “Not exactly,” he said.

“Not exactly,” Kirk huffed.  He held out his arms and let them fall with a slap to his sides again.  “Mind telling me what ‘not exactly’ means, exactly?”

Khan did not move.  He was seated very stiffly, with his hands carefully flat on his thighs.  It was all very… deliberate.  Kirk suspected it was something the Augments, or perhaps just Khan, had learned in order to give nothing away.  No body language cues or anything.  Too bad Kirk wasn’t just some random interrogator.  No, Kirk knew more about Khan than anyone else did at this point.  

He knew that Khan’s distance was carefully calculated, his subtle attempts to face away or gain brief privacy from Kirk’s gaze.  While someone else might just consider that achingly normal for someone so… strange, Kirk knew that Khan could sit still for days and not feel the need to pace or fidget as a way to pass time.  Which meant those motions meant something in particular, something strong.”

Kirk got as close to the glass as he could without touching it.  He angled his head so he could peer past a glare on the shiny surface and have a clear view of Khan’s face.  “What is it you’re afraid of, Khan?  Why are you scared of this?”

The reaction he got to that was fast and sharp.  Khan was off the bed and by the glass in barely the blink of an eye.  He crouched down beside it, almost touching but not quite.  Distantly, Kirk could hear a soft beeping noise, like a proximity indicator.  He didn’t pay it any attention though.  Khan’s nose was less than an inch from his own, separated by glass.  His eyes practically glowed with intensity.

“So, you have learned something,” Khan practically growled.  “How perceptive. Tell me, since you know me so well, what could possibly scare me the most, so obviously that even you could be made aware?”

Khan waited, staring at him and seemed content to stay that way until Kirk gave up or answered.  James Kirk didn’t give up.  “Being alone,” Kirk blurted for the second time today.  Where was his filter?  He quickly tried to explain himself so he didn’t sound like a fourteen year old girl.  “You fear losing your crew, failing them… being the only one left.”

It wasn’t an irrational fear.  It was like being the last of your species, but something didn’t quite add up about when and why Khan was showing fear.  “But you said that I wouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer and something about that scared you.  Why?”

When Khan spoke, his voice was steady and cold.  “Your Starfleet, if it has even an ounce of sense, will either kill me or place me back in my cryotube.  Once my mind is gone, you will no longer be forced to feel echoes of it.”

“Cryosleep?” Kirk asked.  A strange disquiet settled in his gut instead of relief that this would all be over soon.

Those blue eyes slid closed.  “For me, cryosleep was like death.  It was like drifting in silence for an eternity.  My mind could not speak and it could not hear.  Until I was awoken, everything I was ceased to exist; I didn’t even have the presence of my crew members to remind me of who I was.”

Silence stretched between them.  Kirk felt odd looking at Khan’s closed eyes, a saddened face, like he was intruding.  Somehow, the way that the black fabric of Khan’s pants stretched and wrinkled over his bent knee was extremely fascinating.  Unfortunately, studying that eventually led to studying the man’s long, elegant fingers that hung nearby, fingers that seemed too beautiful to be so cruel.  Realizing that he was staring at Khan’s hand thinking words like beautiful, Kirk cleared his throat, causing Khan to open his eyes once more.   

“Perhaps you should inform Starfleet that putting me into cryosleep would alleviate this inconvenience.  It would give them an excuse to forgo this caricature of a trial and you could be rid of me that much sooner.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Kirk insisted.

Khan narrowed his eyes in consideration.  “Why not?  Are you concerned by what your superiors will think when they learn you’ve been sharing experiences with a murder?”

“No,” Kirk responded truthfully.  

“Then perhaps you are too noble to allow me to be punished without trial.  That is why you captured me on Kronos, is it not?”

“Yeah, I guess.”  Kirk rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly.  “No one deserves to be punished without trial.”

“Why not?  You saw me in action, you saw what I was capable of.  I destroyed half the city and I am not sorrowful for the deaths on my hands.  You know all of this first hand and you know I deserve death.  Why must I stand trial?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do!” Kirk snapped in irritation.  “Why do you care what I think?”

“I care because you are the only crew I have left.”

Kirk froze, staring at him in shock and uncertainty.  “Crew?  I don’t think so…”

“Yes, Kirk,” Khan hissed, his eyes turning wild again.  “You’ve suspected for a number days now, haven’t you?  That’s why you’re inebriated, isn’t it?  You can feel the knowledge gnawing away at you, deep in your gut, telling you that you know exactly what all of this means.  You come seeking answers because your small mind can only barely grasp this enormity but you can still feel it happening.”

“I- I don’t-”  Kirk could barely speak.  It was all… true.  Uncomfortably so and terrifying.  

“You don’t understand yet because you’ve lived your life in silence and the music frightens you,” he said, low and fierce.  “Until my crew is returned to me, I will cling to your presence in my mind because I have lived <i>my</i> life in song and so cannot face the silence.”

Khan fell silent, looking truly sorrowful for the first time since Kirk had laid eyes on him.  He even looked… vulnerable, if it was even possible.  Had Khan really just confessed to being too frightened to face something?  Shouldn’t that be against some super-human code?  Don’t appear weak in front of the mortals, now, they might not respect you in the morning.  For Khan to open up to Kirk, his very blatant enemy of all people, well, that level of trust was…

Kirk’s thoughts derailed over one simple word.  Did the crazy mass murderer just show an act of trust to him?  Damn.  Khan really did consider him crew, where crew actually meant some kind of messed up, militant family.  If Kirk had been born with super powers, he’d have fit right in.   And on the tail of that awkward realization, Kirk suddenly noticed how closely they’d been standing, how normal their voices had gotten.  It was too much.

“I have to go,” Kirk blurted out.  He turned on his heel and sped back to the car waiting to take him back to Headquarters.

From behind, he heard the quiet words, “Until next time, Captain.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally picking this back up. A few years later and life has finally settled down. Enjoy.
> 
> In which Spock reveals something.

The room was almost completely silent.  The only noises were the soft sounds of typing mixed with the occasional rustling of clothing.  Kirk had a hard time sitting still, so most of what little noise there was came from him.  Starfleet shoved form after form towards the crew of the Enterprise, insisting on tactical review, psychological evaluations, and more.  Between the two of them, Kirk and Spock would eventually be able to finish all their required documentation.  Eventually, being the key word.

After three hours of this, Kirk’s eyes began to ache dully.  He rubbed them with the heels of his hands and slumped back in his office chair.  It had been growing steadily worse, the tension spreading through his body.

“What!?” he finally snapped.

Spock looked up, mildly confused by Kirk’s outburst.  “I beg your pardon?” he inquired.

Kirk groaned and threw up his hands.  “I can practically hear you thinking, Spock.  Whatever it is, why don’t you just spit it out?”

For a moment, he thought Spock was going to deny having anything in particular to say.  The guy paused long enough.  But when Spock’s eyes became cautiously guarded, Kirk knew he’d hit the nail on the head.  Something was bothering his First Officer, something he wanted to get off his chest.  

“I had, in fact,  something I wished to discuss with you.”  Spock looked at Kirk and then glanced away uneasily.  

“What is it, Spock?” he asked with what he liked to think of as professional impatience.

There was another long pause.  “It is a confession,” Spock finally admitted.

Kirk perked up a little at that.  Had Spock broken a rule?  This was more interesting than paperwork by far.  Reining in his enthusiasm and pulling his captain’s hat back on, he asked evenly, “A confession of what, exactly?”  

Spock’s eyes lowered to the ground, as though he was thinking.  It was a long moment before he spoke but when he did speak, he formed each word extra carefully, as though to stop it from spilling out thoughtlessly.  “I must confess that I intentionally withheld information regarding our last mission from my mission report to Starfleet.”

With his mouth slightly agape, Kirk stared at his First Officer.  He really couldn’t have heard what he thought he’d just heard.  Did Spock really do that?  Should Kirk be proud that the Vulcan might have  learned a little situational discretion or irritated that it had happened too late to be of use to Kirk?  He erred, as he usually did, on the side of humor and pride. 

“Good for you, Spock!”

Spock didn’t look pleased with himself but simply look resigned to the fact that Kirk believed it was a good thing.  “It was not relevant and it had no impact on the events that followed it.” Spock tried to reason. 

Kirk snorted.  “Yeah, right.  So what exactly did you do?”

“During my pursuit of Khan, when we were fighting… I performed a mind meld on Khan.”

Whatever Kirk was expecting to hear Spock say, that was at the very bottom of the list.  Hell, that hadn’t even made the list.  When would Spock have had time to perform a meld?  The footage Starfleet had managed to gather on the whole incident showed a lot of running, hitting , and choking.  Then again, Kirk didn’t really know how the whole meld-thing actually worked.  He’d only ever participated twice.

“What?  How?” Kirk spluttered.

“He had his hands around my head, like he was going to crush it.  Vulcans are telepathic via touch so I could feel his mind on the edge of mine.  It was logical to enter his mind and shock him into letting go before he did me permanent harm.”

Kirk made a small, disbelieving sound.  Only his Vulcan would attempt such a monumentally stupid act and call it logic.  At least Kirk called it like it was, but hey, whatever helped him sleep at night.

Spock’s eyes tightened.  “It did not work as I had hoped, however.  I was more… affected by his emotions than he was by my presence in his mind.”

“Knowing what we do now, though, it’s not really a surprise, I guess,” Kirk sighed.  Then he shrugged, his eyes twinkling merrily.“What is surprising is that you left it off your report.  Isn’t that against the rules, Spock?”  

Spock didn’t even pretend to look guilty.  Good for him.

“Indeed,” Spock continued.  “I did not give the interaction much thought, given its short duration and lack of outcome.  However, I am beginning to realize how much I might have actually gleaned from it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Khan had no mental shields as one might expect of a telepathic being, however, he was incredibly strong in this area as in every other.  I am certain that neither one of us had the upper hand because he was forced to break my physical connection in order to put a stop to the meld.”

None of that really meant anything to Kirk.  It sounded like they figuratively butted heads and found they were both made of rock.  That didn’t exactly tell him anything he hadn’t known yesterday.  

As if sensing his confusion, Spock continued,  “He had no mental shields designed to keep someone out.  Many telepathic races, Vulcans included, have methods of protecting their privacy.  It is a survival mechanism meant to preserve individual identity.  Without mental barriers, it is entirely likely that Khan was truly as dependent upon his crew mates as he led us to believe.”

Kirk frowned, tapping idly at the reflective surface of the table.  “So, what, he couldn’t stop his crew from reading his mind?  That doesn’t necessarily make him dependent on them, right?”

Spock tilted his head to the side in quiet rejection of the premise.  “The connection goes both ways,” Spock reminded him.

Kirk’s eyes fluttered closed as it dawned on him.  If all 73 Augments left alive had shared some kind of mental network then a lack of barriers meant that they would have literally been all up in each other’s business.  If that’s the way they’d lived their entire lives, what would it be like to have it suddenly ripped from you?  Would it be as bad as going deaf as an adult?  Or worse because communication had stopped entirely?

Shit!  It was like solitary confinement for the telepathically dependent.  There was a reason they’d stopped the practice of completely isolating prisoners as a disciplinary method.  It inevitably turned troubled minds into damaged ones.  It was counterproductive to say the least, but also fairly cruel.

On top of this information, Kirk had been to visit Khan twice now and was more confused than ever about the thin mental connection they shared.  They weren’t just hate-filled glimpses of his time awake in the past year or so.  Other events, unfamiliar ones had begun coming through.  Kirk was beginning to experience moments of joy, fear, and sorrow from Khan even before the Eugenics War.  Almost all of it centered around crew members who had clearly been important to Khan.  

Khan’s words from earlier echoed in his mind. _I will cling to your presence in my mind because I have lived my life in song and so cannot face the silence._

If it was true that Khan had lived his entire life relying heavily on a mental network for his physical and emotional  well-being, then he could have had a legitimate break down being awake without it.  Especially after 300 years of drifting in cryostasis.  Kirk wasn’t sure, but he suspected that Starfleet would have a much harder decision in front of them if they knew Khan was more like a tortured animal than a savage terrorist.  It could have a profound impact on the way they dealt with Khan and future crimes of this magnitude and type.  Who was really to blame for the thousands of deaths in San Francisco, Khan or Admiral Marcus who’d woken him up and held his crew in the threat of death?  

Kirk rubbed his forehead with a groan.  “Man, Spock.  What are we going to do?”

Spock inclined his head.  “It had occurred to me that this information and its inevitable conclusion would be useful in Khan’s trial.  However…”  He paused, clearly torn about what he was going to say.

“However,” he continued with tenuous strength, “I am reluctant to provide any kind of defense for the man responsible for so much tragedy.  Despite his motivations for acting as he did, it should not excuse him from the ramifications.”

Kirk was tempted to point out that Spock’s reluctance to make the information known was probably based on an emotional response.  Logically, if Spock had any information pertaining to the case, he should pass it along simply because that is what one did in these situations.  A decision could not be made without all relevant data, and all that.  But Kirk refrained.  Spock was no doubt aware of the emotional entanglements he had with this, which is why he was reluctant to speak of it.  Kirk wouldn’t rub dirt in the wound.  Instead, he replied gently, “It’s not really up to us to decide anything, Spock.  That’s why they’re holding a trial.  A jury and judge will decide.  It’s the best way.”

Spock regarded him quietly, seeming oddly vulnerable with his dark eyes widened.  His mouth opened briefly and then closed again as Spock broke eye-contact.  “You are correct.  I will provide this information to Starfleet.”  He rose quickly to his feet, causing his chair to roll backwards a foot or so.

Kirk was amused.  First of all, he was amused at the sight of the rolling chair.  They didn't’ have those on the Enterprise.  Or any starship.  He could just imagine the damage they’d cause rolling back and forth across the floor as the ship maneuvered. Second of all, he was amused that Spock had reached a decision so quickly and was already acting on it.  It hadn’t really taken all that much to convince the Vulcan, for a change.  Go him!

“Leaving already?” Kirk asked, bemused,  “What about your reports?”

  
Spock paused halfway to the door and turned back with that damned eyebrow raised.  “I finished all required reports yesterday.”  He turned and left, leaving it unspoken that he’d merely been keeping Kirk’s slow ass company all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short one, but I ought to have the next chapter up in a day or two. (for real, this time, it's already written)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which someone says thank you.

“I suppose you would like a sign of gratitude,” Khan growled stiffly when Kirk was finally within earshot.

Kirk held up his hands defensively.  “Hey now,” he reminded the prisoner, “You’re the one who asked me to come visit.  I don’t expect anything from you but if you want to acknowledge how awesome I am, then feel free.  I’m all ears.”  He grinned and winked.

It was true.  This visit was all Khan.  He’d requested Kirk’s presence the day before his trial and Kirk had been willing to oblige.  He still felt conflicted about the things he felt from and for Khan but those things didn’t grate on him quite the way they had two days ago before he and Spock had discussed the implications of Khan’s dependency upon his crew.   Between the two of them they had, after all, come to the conclusion that it wasn’t up to them to pass judgement but to let the courts decide.  Bureaucracy was freeing for a change.  For the moment, all Kirk had to do was feel what he wanted to and allow someone else to worry about the ‘right thing to do’.

Khan seemed unimpressed by Kirk’s bravado but what else was new?   He didn’t really seem impressed by anything but he was a genius so it was difficult to get anything past him.  

“Knowledge of my ability to communicate telepathically with my crew was limited to a handful of people.  That you deliberately shared this information with Starfleet, and therefore the world, is entirely unsurprising and distasteful.”  His eyes narrowed sourly.  “And despite the no-doubt noble sentiment involved in the decision to reveal this information, it was not yours to share.”

“You never told me not to,” Kirk reasoned calmly.

“I had not thought I needed to, given your vested interested in keeping your connection to me a secret from the admiralty.  I had thought you to be the type to at least consider your own future before sabotaging it.”

Kirk rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t actually say anything.  Spock was the one with the mind meld, he was the one who filed the report.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that he sought your advice on the matter,” Khan hissed.  “Despite his logical devotion to the rules, very few have as much desire to watch me burn as he does.”

Kirk sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.  “Look, no one knows about whatever is happening between us except you, me, Spock, and Bones.  We’ve talked about it, and both me and Lucille Harewood have been examined six ways to Sunday.  There don’t appear to be any side effects more complicated than reading entries from a psychopath’s diary.  So we haven’t told anyone.  Even Spock agrees there’s no need to do so until it becomes clear that I am either compromised or unable to reverse this thing.  They won’t know unless you tell them.”

“You plan on finding a way to reverse it?” Khan asked sharply, examining him closely with pale blue eyes.  

“What, you’re surprised?”

Khan blinked and looked away.  Not surprised, then.  But something else, certainly not comfortable with the idea.

“You and Miss Harewood are the only connections I have at the moment.  Losing them would be… difficult.”

The candor involved in their conversations since his imprisonment was still startling.  It felt wrong for Kirk to know these things.  The vulnerability that flashed across Khan’s face was disarming for sure.  A man like that, who would gladly kill whoever he needed to in order to accomplish his goals shouldn’t be so emotionally vulnerable.  His facade was impeccable at all times save for the ones where he discussed his crew.  It hit home that Kirk was now, in some way, considered to be a part of that crew.

Kirk swallowed uncomfortably but thankfully Khan shook off the uncomfortable silence with another pointed question.  “What did you hope to  gain by offering up this information?  Did you think they would realize how damaged I truly am and put me down like a rabid animal?  Or… perhaps you thought they might take pity on me if they knew the effect just being awake and alone has had on me.”

Stepping all the way up to the blue line on the floor, Kirk replied hotly, but honestly.  “I don’t expect anything.  It spoke to your motivations for going as far as you did.  Starfleet needed to know.  Whatever they choose to do with the information now is entirely beyond me now.  The trial will decide your fate, as it should be.”

Whether or not this answer satisfied him, Kirk couldn’t tell.  Khan remained quiet and still at first before he lowered his gaze to the floor.  “Regardless of your disinterest for my fate, I would like to thank you for coming today.”

The silence that followed that little revelation was saturated with all sorts of unspoken reasons.  All of which were left unsaid.  Kirk could only guess at what they were, despite having somewhat of an insider’s perspective.  “Uh… no problem.  I’m on leave until they decide what to do with me so it’s not like I’ve got a lot to do at the moment.”

“What, no adulation to endure?”  His blue eyes were cold and sharp again.

Kirk didn’t respond.  There were people out there who wanted to congratulate him for his part in everything, for essentially saving the day even if it wasn’t as flashy as it had been when fighting Nero.  But Kirk wasn’t interested in being congratulated or awarded for a change.  He would be happier if everyone forgot about his part in all of this entirely.  Spock was more deserving.  Scotty was more deserving.  Hell, even Chekov was more deserving for shouldering the responsibility he had.  Kirk had just made the most of the awful situation he had a large part in creating.  

Khan winced, a barely visible pinch of his facial features.  “Stop that,” he snapped.

Kirk blinked.  “Stop what?”

“I can feel your self-deprecation from here.”

“You can feel what I’m feeling?” Kirk asked sharply.  That was new.  Would Khan be able to read his mind next?  Just fantastic.  If that happened Kirk would be shipped off to some cold, dark outpost like Scotty had when they’d met. He’d be a liability for sure.

Khan sighed and probably would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t so rigid.  “Nothing so dramatic, I assure you.  You are not particularly difficult to predict, Captain, given your history.  And it is almost entirely certain that even if I were left alive and conscious, empathic abilities would never develop.  I do not even share such a bond with my crew mates.”

Oh. Well that was relief but now something else was bothering him.  “Wait, did you actually just thank me for coming here and harassing you about this whole bond thing?” 

“I believe I thanked you for coming at my request,” Khan clarified.  “But I suppose you could say that.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Kirk said, brushing off the distance Khan tried to put between them emotionally.  “Why did you ask me to come?  I doubt you’d subject yourself to this just to grumble about how your secret’s out now.  A glare across the courtroom could have gotten that across.”

At this, Khan’s eyes shuttered and he turned away.  His hands were clasped tightly at the small of his back, every muscle lean and taught.  He moved off a ways and Kirk couldn’t help but step forward, drawn as though being pulled by a magnet towards him.  The blue line flashed at him but he ignored it.  If the guards tensed at it, he didn’t notice.  They hadn’t stopped him so far, so why not?

“Khan,” Kirk called again.

He didn’t turn around.  

“Khan,” Kirk insisted, starting to become slightly suspicious.  “Why did you ask me to come today?”

Kirk could only see his profile but there was a defiance in the way Khan lifted his chin.  Khan was silent for a few moments before he finally replied with a low, rough whisper.  “My trial begins tomorrow.”  At first, that was it, as though that explained everything.  But as Kirk opened his mouth to complain, Khan pivoted on his heel and stared a Kirk.  “This is likely the last companionship I will ever know.  I had wanted to spend it with you, my remaining crew.”

Shit, that was heavy.  Kirk had absolutely no response to that.  Half-formed thoughts like ‘not your crew’ and ‘what companionship’ flittered through his mind but none of them solidified enough to escape as actual words, much less coherent sentences.  What was he supposed to say to something like that?

Khan sighed, a strikingly impatient noise.  “Do not look so alarmed, Captain. I have no expectations of you, nor do you need to echo the belief that we are crew.”

Well, that was a relief.  Kirk shifted his weight.  “Your crew is like family, isn’t it?” he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

If it were not for the memories of a life lived over a century ago, Kirk would have believed that the glacial expression was an answer.  A contemptuous glare like that, coming from anyone else, would mean that Kirk was so far off base that words could not even be found to describe his location.  From Khan, Kirk suspected, it meant he was far closer than he had a right to be.

“Such a little word cannot even begin to describe it.”  

Disdain dripped from his words like acid, but it did not burn Kirk.  He knew.  He understood, in his limited perspective, what it meant to have a crew that was both less and more than family.  The agony of responsibility and the miracle of devotion.

Kirk nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: the trial begins. duh duh duuhhhh!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which tears are shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've been torn. I think, in reality, the trial would either be publicity stunt to show everyone that Starfleet is still in control, or it would be held in secret because of the public embarrassment and no doubt highly classified information. I've ended up striking some sort of balance, I suppose. You'll notice certain things are sort of referenced but not gone over in detail. I like to think that it was explained that Khan offered a 'mystery cure' for Lucille Harewood and no one knows it was actually his blood. Things like that are probably classified for good reason. So.... I'm not sure how well I accomplished the feat, but here you go anyway.

Destruction had cast a pall over the city of San Francisco.  The sky had been bright and blue ever since, but there was a cloud of smoke from the wreckage that reminded everyone, at every moment, of everything that had been destroyed.  By this point, the city was recovering and its streets were more crowded than ever.  Aid had come from all over the globe and from off planet as well.  Everyone had heard about what happened and they all wanted to help however they could.  

This why the streets and the air were crowded to near stand-still when Kirk left his apartment the morning of the trial.  He met with Spock, Uhura, Scotty, Bones, Chekov, and Sulu and together they took a Starfleet shuttle to the courthouse.  It took them an hour to get there and another 20 minutes to get inside.  The auditorium they were shown to was so large that it could house a full 20% of the city’s former population.  The last time he’d been in it was as a cadet when the President had spoken.  It was nearly full by the time Kirk and his command team were shown to their seats.  

“I’m going to go stand in the back,” Sulu commented, eyeing the ever growing crowds.  

“Aye, Keptin.  Good luck today.”  Chekov waved and the two of them departed.  Their testimony would not be needed for the trial, a matter of record now.  

“Wait!” Kirk hissed, shuffling out of his position and nearly pushing Spock over the in the process.  “I need you to keep an eye out for me.”

Sulu glanced at the admirals and captains seated around them.  “Anything in particular we should be watching for, Captain?” he asked quietly.  

Kirk ducked his head closer to Sulu.  “I need you to take a look around and make sure there aren't any contingencies for Khan’s escape.  Check the computer systems, if you need to and get help from Enterprise crew if you find anyone but keep this quiet.  I don’t want anyone else knowing what you’re doing.”

Sulu nodded.  So did Chekov, although the younger was wide-eyed with the surprise command.  With a hand on Chekov’s shoulder, Sulu retreated up the aisle.  There were a full two second between Kirk’s settling into his aisle seat and Spock leaning slightly towards him.

“Captain, do you suspect something?”

Spock had one hell of a poker face.  He might have been remarking on the time for all that his expression changed.  God, he loved his crew.

“With Khan, always.”

Throughout their talks in the past week, Khan seemed surprisingly resigned to his impending judgement.  Last time he had been so easily managed, he had been planning on killing them all to regain his crew. Kirk had honestly expected another confrontation before now.  There was no way Khan had simply given up just because he had been captured.

It made sense, though.  Khan had to be transported from his secret prison cell to this auditorium.  There were more variables to control here.  The transfer, the press, the people. Khan’s guards would be stretched to capacity in order keep order.  It wouldn’t take much to disrupt that order.  

The clamor of the audience settled into an excited hum as the President of the Federation entered the auditorium.  His face was displayed on large screens for everyone to see.  Everyone stood.  Members of Starfleet saluted.  He was followed by the members of the Supreme Court, who took their seats at the panel of seats on the stage.  Finally, when all of the important members had entered the auditorium, all activity ceased.  It was eerie to be in a crowd so large that was so still.  

When the doors opposite the President’s arrival opened, everyone understood why.  Khan entered, bound and gagged.  His restraints glowed, indicating that they were more than just chains.  Kirk stared at him but Khan did not look up at the crowd.  He was watching his guards, the politicians, the judges.  Kirk almost wished their bond was stronger.  He would love to know what dangerous thoughts occupied that mind.

The trial was slow to begin, starting with the formalities and a list of crimes that took forever to get through, it was so lengthy.  At first, Kirk watched Khan, practically boring holes into the side of the man’s face in order to see into his head.  By the time they had finished naming his crimes, however, his gaze shifted to start scanning the faces around Khan.  If there was something planned, it would not be Khan who gave the game away, but one of his collaborators.  And there would have to be collaborators.  He had not had time to set up traps the way he had before the bombing in London.  

“The prosecutor calls Rima Harewood for testimony.”

Kirk’s attention snapped off Khan’s guards and searched the front of the crowd where the witnesses were seated.  A woman with beautiful brown skin stood up two rows down and one aisle over.  When she stepped forward, Kirk could see the little girl still sitting there.  She was quiet, drawn.  Her hair was neatly plaited and there was not a hair or ribbon out of place.  This was not the child he had dreamed of.  The child he had dreamed of had been happy and smiling until she grew too sick to stay awake.  Even after she became sick, she had been restless, always trying to get out of bed and find something to do.  Now, she did not even swing her legs in the seat that was too tall for her feet to reach the ground.  

“I would tell my husband to do it all over again,” Mrs. Harewood whispered.  There was a ripple of surprise at the confession.  Lives had been lost in London.  That is what started this whole thing and Mrs. Harewood did not regret its occurrence?  Of course not.  Lucille was still alive after all.

The trial passed much as expected for the rest of the day.  Khan had declined representation at some point and so there was no cross examination.  It was mostly a presentation of the relevant facts to the watching public.  At the end of the trial, if it could be called that, everyone would know exactly why Khan was being punished, even if they did not know everything that had transpired.

Court recessed several times and was finally called overnight.  They would continue in the morning with some of the last moments of Khan’s crimes, including Kirk and Spock’s testimony.  No doubt it would all be over by tomorrow night.

Another ship’s captain attempted to speak to Kirk when everyone was free to leave.  “Would you excuse me, please?” He said, stopping any questions before they could start.  Instead, he pushed his way through the crowd, on the lookout for a small child with dark skin.  The shifting bodies made it slow going but eventually there was break enough to see that she was still sitting in her seat.  Her mother was talking to a man with a notepad in his hand taking notes.

“You must be Lucille,” Kirk said with a gentle smile, coming down her aisle.  She looked up at him.  

Wow, no response.  Kids typically liked him.  He must be losing his touch.  Slouching into the seat next to her, he leaned in.  “You can call me Jim.”

There was silence.  Then, “I know who you are.”

Kirk swallowed.  That was a chilling tone of voice.  It was far heavier than any kid’s had a right to be.  Kirk actually did not know what to say.   So he babbled, “Must be pretty boring sitting here all day.  When I was your age, I would have been getting into all sorts of trouble by now.  You must be a pretty good-”

“I miss my dad, too.”  

Kirk gaped, mid-word.  

Her face was wrinkled now.  Her upper lip curled up and her brow furrowed.  Her eyes were shining but the tears were unshed.  Kirk’s heart clenched.  He reached out, only to lay a hand on her thin shoulder.  It was as though that touch gave her some sort of permission.  Next thing he knew, Lucille Harewood, a girl he had never met, was clinging to his neck and sobbing into his shoulder.  

Eyes prickled over Kirk’s skin.  Every captain, every witness, every reporter in the front of the auditorium was watching them, it seemed.  Mrs. Harewood’s eyes were careful, defensive.  She clutched at her necklace and pressed her lips together as a stranger held her daughter.  Kirk knew this was the first time Lucille had cried.   It was important that she grieve, even if she could not yet grieve with her mother.

Kirk rubbed Lucille’s back and whispered soothing reassurances into her ear.  Something far more intense than the curious regard of the onlookers nagged at Kirk’s instinct.  He glanced up and saw Khan stopped at the doorway that would lead him out.  His guards were non-plussed, unable to shove him forward if he did not want to be moved.  He did not want to be moved.  He was standing in the open doorway, staring at the two of them.

Those blue eyes were as unmoving as the rest of him.  They ought to have been cold, but like the rage on board the Vengeance, they were burning hot.  This time, it was not with rage.  Kirk didn’t know how to identify it.  He couldn’t recognize anything on that face that was not hurt, anger, or indifference.   

A high whine announced the charge of a phaser.  Kirk tore his eyes away and pet Lucille’s head.  When he glanced back up, the doorway was empty.  

By now, Lucille’s sobs had lessened.  She simply rested against him now as her breathing smoothed out.  Finally she pushed herself upright.  “Mother and I are moving to Mumbai,” she told him quietly.  “Will you come visit me?”

“Of course,” Kirk replied hoarsely with an awkward grin.  He’d never had a child look at him like that before.  None had ever been so desperate to for his approval.  His stomach lurched.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  There was not a single point in the universe that was far enough for him to runaway to.  He clutched at Lucille’s hand until she pulled away, rubbing her puffy eyes on her sleeve.

Well, fuck.

 

 

\----

 

 

“Did you find anything, Sulu?” Kirk asked when they were all safely in the shuttle away from prying eyes.  The ragged city-scape hummed all around them as they sat in traffic again, this time on their way back to Starfleet.

“Negatiwe, Keptin,” Chekov responded for the both of them.  “There vas no sign of tampering in the computer system.”

Sulu shrugged in acknowledgement.  “I found Lieutenant Hendorff in the audience, had him and his men help scout the hallways and subfloors.  No one found anything suspicious.”

“Where would he have found the time to plan an escape?” Bones complained.

“Captain Kirk is wise to cautious,” Spock defended.  “We would not want to underestimate Khan again.  Starfleet already plays a dangerous game by allowing him to remain conscious and in public during his trial.”

Uhura shook her head.  “They want to prove to everyone that he is now under control,” she observed.

“Under control, right.  We had that so well covered the last time,” Bones said.  

“I daresay they’re taking better precautions than we were.”  Sulu tilted his head in consideration of the shackles Khan had on and the sheer number of phasers aimed in his direction at every moment.

Kirk didn’t respond to their conversation.  His gaze was still focused through the window at the city of San Francisco.  They flew over several blocks of reconstruction, even though the bulk of it was still some ways off.  Even now, there were workers out rebuilding some of what had been lost.  They could repair so much, so quickly, but not the lives that were ruined.

He was so lost in thought that he did not realize that they had broken free of the traffic and returned back to Starfleet.  It wasn’t until Bones shook him roughly on the shoulder that he blinked and glanced around.  Everyone had left but the two of them. 

“Sorry Bones,” Jim mumbled, shoving himself up and ducking out of the shuttle.  

He stood on the mall in the center of campus, surrounded by concrete and perfectly trimmed grass.  The stars twinkled faintly beyond the glow of the city’s lights.  Golden Gate Bridge was a bright, complicated icon across the water.  

Bones frowned, clearly diagnosing Kirk.  “You alright?”

Kirk blinked.  “I’m fine.”

“Right.  Wanna try pulling the other one?”

Sighing, Kirk ran his hand through his hair.  “Sorry Bones, it’s been a long week. Today… wasn’t easy.”  He hadn’t expected it to be easy, but his imagination couldn’t really prepare him for the reality of spending 10 hours on high alert and sifting through more emotions than he even though he was capable of feeling.  

Bones clapped him on the shoulder.  “Get some sleep, doctor’s orders.  Tomorrow you get to do it all over again.”

  
Why were they even friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truthfully, I never wanted to have to write the trial but my brain did it anyway. And yay! Little Miss Harewood made it into the story at last. Much better than what I had originally intended.
> 
> Up next, the trial continues.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the trial continues.

His heart hurt.  His arms were cold and his face was hot but the only thing he could focus on was the fierce ache in his chest that felt like someone had torn through his ribs and clenched a hand around his heart.  Every pump of blood seemed slow and agonizing.  Frustration bubbled up from the pit of his stomach.  His hands clenched and his biceps pushed against the restraints holding them against his sides.  He wanted, needed to do something.  

The whine of a phaser charging.  Blue lights all around him, setting his teeth grinding.  Too many to take out.  Too many when he was needed elsewhere.  A crying child and the man comforting her.  He was needed, but not wanted.  Hatred, loathing, confusion.  All emotions directed at himself but not his own.  Or were they his own?  Did they not echo with familiarity?  Desperation, longing, and more confusion.  Fresh at the back of his throat, pouring from the man cradling that girl.  He ran cold all over and tore himself away, trying to convince himself that they were not really his crew and did not really need his help.

Rage, hopelessness, guilt.  Those belonged to him.

 

 

Unlike previous dreams, Kirk did not wake up in a sleepy haze of confusion, nor did he jolt from his bed out of fear and panic.  One moment he was asleep and the next he was awake, lying flat on his back and feeling completely frozen.

His smooth ceiling offered no explanation and no comfort.  He cursed it's mocking blankness and sat up.  Dropping his legs over the side of the bed, he leaned forward and rubbed his face.  Khan had wanted to help them, of all things.  How could that be?  He was a calculating bastard with no care for anyone but his crew.

His crew.  Kirk and Lucille, now.  

Fuck.

Kirk lurched to his feet and slunk into the bathroom.  The light was harsh and bright when it flicked on as he entered.  “Computer,” he croaked.  “Lights to 30 percent.”

The lights dimmed measurably and Kirk sighed when he could see clearly.  On second thought, maybe it was better to be blinded.  He looked terrible.  He hadn’t gotten to sleep until 3am.  At first he was plagued by dreams of Lucille’s father and her sorrow now that he was gone.  It was inextricably tangled up in some of the memories Kirk had about his own father, like when his mother had first told him the story of the Kelvin’s final stand.  Wrap it all up with a third childhood that had lacked all semblance of care and nurturing and Kirk felt like a sponge wrung out too many times.

Splashing water on his face helped wake him up but the bags under his eyes remained.  

He was standing outside, waiting for the shuttle in his uniform before anyone else.  Bones was the last to arrive, shoving a cup of coffee into Kirk’s hands before boarding the shuttle.  “I had a feeling you might need this,” he grumbled.

Kirk inhaled the earthy aroma steaming up from the cup.  Real coffee.  No replicated imitation here.  “Aw, Bones,” he crooned.  “You do care.”

 

\----

 

“Captain Kirk, can you tell us  what happened after you were returned to the Enterprise?” The prosecutor asked. 

Kirk shifted in his seat, aware of the thousands of eyes on him at the moment.  He glanced at Khan.  As he expected, the man was staring at him blankly.  Turning back to prosecutor, Kirk explained.  “Chief Engineer Scott, Carol Marcus, and myself were beamed back aboard the Enterprise into a cell.  Khan proceeded to fire upon the Enterprise with the intent of destroying our ship and killing everyone on board.”

“What happened next?”

“Acting Captain Spock ordered the detonation of the seventy-two torpedos, in which Khan had previously smuggled his crew members, who were in cryostasis at the time.  The torpedoes had been emptied of their passengers by Doctor McCoy and Acting Captain Spock.”

“And after the torpedos were detonated?”

Kirk paused.  He studied his hands, folded in his lap.  When all of this happened, he had been locked up in security, he’d felt only panic and confusion.  But the echoes of Khan’s total devastation lingered.  Clearing his throat, Kirk straightened in his chair and delivered his account.  “The Vengeance had been disabled and was going down. Khan believed that his crew had been killed, so he sought revenge on Starfleet the only way remaining to him.  He crashed the Vengeance into San Francisco.”

“Were any steps taken aboard the Enterprise to avoid this?”

He was not on trial.  Khan was.  Kirk reminded himself of it twice.  “The Enterprise was nearly destroyed.  Admiral Marcus had tampered with our warp core, travel and combat had crippled us.  The Enterprise would have crashed too.  I was able to assist in emergency repairs, however, and Acting Captain Spock was able to track down and apprehend Khan after the Enterprise was stabilized.”

Everyone knew that Kirk had been injured while repairing the Enterprise.  The details of the malfunction, his repair, and his recovery, had all be classified.  No one knew but the highest levels of Starfleet.  No one would ever know.

The prosecutor looked down at his notes and flipped a page.  “What are your final impressions of Khan Noonien Singh, Captain Kirk?”

Kirk blinked.  He hadn’t been expecting this question.  Despite everything he had learned about his enemy, he knew what he wanted to say.

“Khan Noonien Singh is a man who was bred for war.  He is cold, intelligent, and ruthless.  Even now, he feels no remorse or pity for all of the lives he destroyed.  I watched him kill Admiral Marcus with his bare hands.  I watch him gun down a room full of unarmed Starfleet personnel for revenge.”  Kirk paused.  

Because of everything he had learned about his enemy, he knew what he wanted to say.

“The only human contact that man has ever been allowed was the contact with his crew.  Admiral Marcus woke him up alone, in a time that he could not possibly understand.  His crew, his family, was then held against him as he was forced to comply with Marcus’ war-mongering.  His pain does not excuse the pain and suffering he has caused, but I believe it should temper our own need for revenge with a sense of mercy and pity.”

A murmur spread through the crowd.  A number of frowns indicated that it was something the Admiralty wished he had not said.  

“Thank you, Captain Kirk.  You may step down now.”  The prosecutor was stiff as he dismissed Kirk.  He would be angling for the maximum penalty.  It not like there was any question about Khan’s guilt.  He had no right to be put out with Kirk’s personal opinion had been sought.

Nodding, he left the stand.  He walked past Khan on his way back to his seat.  Khan’s expression was carefully guarded but thoughtful.  His eyes were sharp enough that Kirk wouldn’t need to relive this memory to know that Khan was telling him exactly where to shove his pity.

Kirk’s testimony was not the last.  Spock’s was.  He’d had final contact with Khan upon capture.  So, Spock recounted the entire ordeal from his own perspective.  Like anyone would expect of a Vulcan witness, his testimony was largely a series of specific events and facts that could be corroborated by ship data or other eye-witness accounts.  

It wasn’t until they reached the end of Spock’s testimony that some of the unbiased precision became a little fuzzy.

“In an effort to break Khan’s hold on me, I performed a mind-meld,” Spock informed them.  

Ripples of surprise moved through the crowd.  Even the prosecutor frowned.  He continued gamely, but it was clear he wished he could avoid following this line of questioning.  “Why was this information not in you report, Commander?”

Spock was unphased.  “The duration was brief and I was not successful in removing Khan from my person.  It had no impact on the remainder of the fight or his capture.”

“So this has no relevance to the case at hand.”

“I did not say that.”  Spock tilted his head and waited for the next question to come.  

The prosecutor gritted his teeth.  He really had no choice but to ask it.   “Then how is this relevant?”

Spock nodded his head.  “I discovered that Khan had latent psychic tendencies and no shields with which to block my intrusion.  There was evidently some connection that he shared with his crew.  Few non-telepathic species could understand the consequences of being completely cut off from psychic input for an extended period of time.  The duration in which Khan was awake but his crew was not, could have had untold consequences to his state of mind.”

There was silence.  A warm hand slipped into Kirk’s.  He glanced down.  Lucille was watching the events from the seat next to him.  She was quiet, but she sought him out anyway.

“Are you attempting to convince the court that Khan was not at fault?” the prosecutor snapped.  His face was growing red with irritation now.

“Not at all,” Spock replied calmly.  “Khan was aware of his actions and entirely responsible for them.  I merely believed it relevant to understanding his state of mind.  I have been told that ascertaining reasons for tragedy wherever possible is a crucial part of the human grieving process.”

The prosecutor looked like he wanted to strike Spock with frustration.  Kirk grinned, despite the horrible situation.  He could relate.  No one was as delightfully difficult to talk to as Spock when he spoke in technical truths to share an an extremely uncomfortable truth.  

“You may step down, Commander Spock.”

Kirk couldn’t wait to see what the press made out of all of this in the coming weeks.

Spock returned to his seat, on Kirk’s left.  Kirk grinned at him but his First Officer merely raised a questioning eyebrow and feigned obliviousness.  
  


\----

 

If this had been a standard court case, there would have been time for the prosecution and the defense to present their final statements before deliberation.  This, however, was not a standard court case.  Khan had declined representation and refused to speak on his own behalf throughout all of the proceedings both before and during the trial.  Nor was there an actual jury of peers to judge him.  There was no question to his guilt.  The judges only had to retire, review the evidence and testimony, and then return for sentencing.

It did not take long.

  
  


\----

  
  


“Khan Noonien Singh, otherwise known as John Harrison, do you have anything to say in your own defense?” The judge asked, leaning forward to peer at Khan.  

“I do not,” he replied flatly.

Leaning back, the judge said, “Very well. You have pled guilty to all charges.  Your crimes are among the most grievous this court has had to try in my lifetime.  Your callous disregard for human life and the series of war crimes you have committed leave no doubt that you are deserving of the most severe punishment I am authorized to assign.”

The prospect of execution did not sway Khan.

“However,” the judge continued with a sigh.  “I cannot in good conscience sentence you to death when there is a viable method of long-term containment so readily available to us.  I hereby sentence you to resume cryostasis indefinitely or until such time the technology can no longer sustain your continued life.”

The judge’s eyes were sharp and probing.  “If you are ever unfortunate enough to wake again in the future, Mr. Singh, I suggest you take a moment to appreciate the family you still have left and abandon your thirst for destruction.  Return to cryostasis will take place at precisely 0800 tomorrow.  Court is adjourned.”

The clap of the gavel echoed through the auditorium.  Everything was silent and still.  So many had hoped for a death sentence.  They had wanted the man who killed their families to pay with his own life.  Kirk had no doubt that his testimony, combined with Spock’s insights, were the only reason that execution had been stayed.  From what Kirk had come to understand, he suspected Khan had been sentenced to a fate far worse than death.

The moment the crowd began to shift and prepare for departure, Lucille stood and pushed her way past Kirk and Spock towards the aisle.  She refused to let go of Kirk’s hand though, and tugged him along after her.  Rima Harewood sat forward in her seat, watching her daughter worriedly.  Kirk held out a placating hand.  She remained seated but she did not relax.

Kirk followed Lucille down the aisle towards the front of the room.  Guards tensed as they approached.

“At ease, gentleman,” Kirk said, saluting them after pulling Lucille to a halt in front of them.  It was an awkward salute with the wrong hand, but it got the job done and they, somewhat uneasily, let them pass.

Lucille made a beeline for Khan who standing and being escorted from the room.  All activity ground to a halt when the little girl approached with a Starship Captain in tow.  She stopped dead in her tracks at least ten feet from Khan and just stared at him.  Kirk glanced down at Lucille and then up at Khan.  What was even going on right now?

A creeping feeling of unease took over him.  He almost felt like… like he was going to miss Khan?  He blinked.  That wasn’t him.  That was Lucille.  If Kirk only felt a portion of what that little girl was feeling, what conflict must be raging within her?  She knew Khan was responsible for her father’s death.  She had been told several times already, reminded not to feel pity.  She hated him for what he had done to her.  But… she did not want to be alone with her grief and her memories a father she would never see again.  

Kirk knelt beside her and pulled her into another hug.  She did not cry.  She pulled away, one hand resting on Kirk’s shoulder.  She continued to watch Khan, the storm inside beginning to contort her face.  She shook her head and her face cleared.  It was eerily reminiscent of Khan’s expression when he’d been questioned in security.

“Good night,” Lucille said.  

She turned on her heel, letting go of Kirk and returning to her very confused mother.  Rima Harewood took her daughter’s hand and looked as though she would never let it go.

  
Kirk stood slowly.  His frown of confusion was met with a surprisingly vulnerable look of surprise from Khan before the man was taken from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm having trouble figuring out how this story is going to end... Maybe it will just keep going forever and that slow-build tag up there will be the biggest understatement I've ever made. -sigh- Have patience with me, my dears.
> 
> Up next, explanations are given.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which explanations are given and received.

“You are early, Captain.  My punishment does not commence for another 2 hours.”

“Yeah, well,” Kirk sniffed.  “I figured you could use a familiar face on the way back to Starfleet.”  He shoved his hands in his pocket and sauntered closer.

There was a glimmer of amusement in Khan’s eyes.  His steady observation made Kirk somewhat uncomfortable.  “It is more likely you want to ensure I do not find a way to escape Starfleet in my final moments of consciousness.”

He called it.  Damn.

“Can’t blame a guy for wanting to make sure,” Kirk grumbled.  

“Certainly not.”

The bastard didn’t have to sound so smug about it.  He was the badass warrior, not Kirk.  He knew it, everyone knew it.  That’s why there were never less than 6 supercharged phasers locked on Khan at all times.  And Kirk really did want to make sure that Khan ended up all the way back into his cryotube.  100 percent harmless.  Maybe then he could sleep with only his own nightmares to worry about.

“There is no need for your concern,” Khan informed him.  He stood up from his narrow cot and rolled his shoulders.  “I have every intention of returning quietly.”

“What  _ happened  _ to you?” Kirk blurted out before he could stop himself.

Khan raised an eyebrow, seeking elaboration.

“I mean, you were out of your mind.  You were literally willing to do anything, kill anyone, in order to escape.  You put your crew in torpedos!  Now you’re just… ready for a nap?  You really expect me to believe that?”

One elegant shoulder rose in a shrug. “You are not required to believe it, Captain.  It is the truth nonetheless.”

“Why?”

Khan tilted his head and regarded him carefully.  Kirk pressed his lips together, trying very hard not to shift around and telegraph his discomfort.  

“Captain Kirk?”

Saved by the Lieutenant.  Turning, Kirk saw a guard standing behind him, carefully staying behind the holographic line that Kirk had started to ignore completely.  “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“It is time to move the prisoner.”

“You heard the man,” Kirk sighed, waving Khan over to the glass.  He would probably never get all the answers to the questions crowding his head.  He was facing a stressful, sleepless couple of weeks filled with speculation and doubt.  The proximity sensor began to beep out a steady warning as Khan approached as bidden.  He did not move until Kirk opened enough room in the glass for him to put his hands through.  Taking the shackles from the guard, Kirk did the honors himself and locked Khan’s hands firmly together.

True to his word, so far at least, Khan did not put up any struggle as the last of his numerous restraints were put in place.  In fact, he appeared bored by the whole procedure, which only seemed to make his guards more nervous.  It was like watching a tiger let little mice crawl all over, indulgent.  Khan was indulging their tremendous fear.  Fantastic.  

  
  


\----

  
  


“Did you know that me and my crew had been marked for death in our time?”

“I believe the history books might have mentioned it,” Kirk drawled, watching as the holding facility shrank beneath their rising shuttle.

Khan did not dignify his sass with a retort.  Kirk shifted in his seat.  Khan’s hands seemed so nonthreatening, resting in his lap without once straining against the bonds or testing them.  He sat there like he was in complete control of everything that was happening, his chin tipped upwards.  Even though there were four soldiers with phasers in the shuttle with them, Khan probably was in control.  

“They created us to champion a war,” he explained.  “We fulfilled our purpose better than their small minds could have ever anticipated.  When they could no longer control us, they set out to exterminate us.”

“So?”  There had to be a point in this somewhere.

“So,” Khan repeated with an icy glare, “We were outnumbered, betrayed by the very world that created us.  I ordered my people to retreat.  The USS Botany Bay was to be our salvation, an opportunity to escape that world and find another.” 

Kirk frowned.  “You put yourselves into cryosleep voluntarily?  Did you know?  That it would…”

“That it would be torture?  Yes.”

Wow.  Not even a trace of regret or pain.  Unbelievable.

“Many of us endured cryosleep throughout our lifetimes while they performed their experiments upon us.  Ours was a time before warp speed had been made a reality.  Cryosleep was the only method of traveling long distances in space.  It was my intention to retreat and find a place for my people that we could call our own.  I desired to escape our situation and enter into one of my own creation.”  His jaw clenched so tightly that Kirk could see the outline of the tendon through cheek.  “Imagine my disappointment, when I awoke at the mercy of Admiral Marcus,” he finished bitterly.

Kirk had read Marcus’ files on the Botany Bay.  It had been found drifting, damaged.  The cryotubes and the occupants therein were practically the only things that survived.  There was no power left to awaken the crew as scheduled.  They had drifted for hundreds of years until Marcus found them.  He’d used Khan the same way Khan’s creators had, as a weapon of war.  

  
  


 

No!  A sudden surge of panic jolted Kirk forward in his seat.  Those were his crew!  They weren’t going to make it.  There wasn’t enough time.  He had to buy them time.  He had to think of something.  Think!

_ “Launch sequence initiated.” _

No!  He couldn’t allow it.  The computer was set.  The engines roared to life.  A hand in his.  The last hand, dry and calloused.  Wide, frightened eyes as the ground began to shake.  The hand was torn from his and the ground fell away.  Darkness engulfed him as the hangar door lifted closed.  The steady blink of an emergency light cast blood red shadows over everything.

_ “Please enter your cryotube in preparation for atmospheric turbulence.” _

Dread sank like a weight in his gut.  72.  He counted them with every blink of the light.  Empty cryotubes.  Ones that could not be saved.  One open.  Cool to the touch and then everything went dark and frozen.

  
  
  
  


Every muscle in his body was taught.  He couldn’t breathe! Warm hands swept down his back and suddenly Kirk was able to drag in a rough, painful gasp of air.  His sides heaved as he sucked in breath.  Slowly the blackness of his vision began to fade and the textured metal panels of the shuttles floors swam into focus.  He knees ached.  A hand rubbed up his back.

Khan.

Kirk shoved backwards, wincing as he collided with the edge of his seat.  He must have pitched forward.  Khan must have caught him.  Why?  Why had he felt that?  Up until now that had only happened while he was asleep.

“Sir, are you alright?” One of the soldiers demanded.

Kirk tore his eyes from Khan, whose placid gaze revealed nothing.

The guards were standing, legs spread to keep steady against the movement of the shuttle.  Their guns were aimed and charged.  They had not fired but they were a hair’s breadth from panicking.  Kirk held up his hand.  It shook.  He clenched it and then spread  his fingers wide.  “I’m fine.”  He coughed, clearing his throat.  “Seriously, guys, I’m fine.  I just got a bit light-headed, that’s all.”

The guard who had spoken looked completely unconvinced.  His weapon was still aimed at Khan and the others were clearly following his lead.  Khan didn’t even spare them a glance.  God, Kirk hoped they didn’t fire.  He really didn’t want to break his hand on Khan’s face again.

“Put your weapons down, that’s an order.”  Kirk had plenty of occasion to practice that tone of voice.  He was used to being obeyed by now.  The first soldier lowered his weapon a fraction, paused, watching for signs of Khan taking advantage.  Khan didn’t so much as twitch.  The soldier lowered his weapon and finally they were all powered down.

Kirk pulled himself back into his seat and slumped backwards.  He scrubbed at his face, trying to clear his head.  This was different.  He could tell.  He glanced at Khan.  Questions threatened to spill over, regardless of who was listening to their conversation.  What was that?  Why did it happen now? 

Khan’s eyelids drooped for a moment.  When he spoke, it was shocking.  It felt like gravel being rubbed into his skin, dragging on his nerves.

“Those of us who could not escape, were murdered.”

Oh.  

To the guards, it would sound as though the conversation had resumed.  It had, but there was an understanding between Kirk and Khan the guards could not comprehend.  Kirk knew now.  Some of the people with whom Khan had been connected had not made it to the Botany Bay in time.

He shuddered.  The guard sitting next to him frowned and eyed him carefully, clearly expecting him to collapse again.  Kirk took a deep, steadying breath.  He didn’t sound at all normal when he finally managed to reply.  “They didn’t-  I mean, the-  The reports never mentioned that any of the Augments had escaped.  They said that all the Augments were killed at the conclusion of the Eugenics War.”

“They wouldn’t have.  They likely did not know,” Khan dismissed.  “Imagine the panic if the public had known that 73 Augments had gone missing.  We did not continue fighting and were obviously assumed dead.”

“Until Admiral Marcus found the Botany Bay.”

“Until Admiral Marcus found the Botany Bay,” Khan confirmed, although Kirk had not phrased it as a question.  

For a long time, the only noise inside the shuttle was the hum of the engines.  Kirk stared at the floor, too overwhelmed to even pretend to look out the window.  Nor could he bear to face the concerned glances of the guards.   They were mercifully quiet in word and action, even if they were practically buzzing with concern.  

A pounding pressure developed at the front of Kirk’s head.  He rubbed at his temples and closed his eyes against the wince that would betray him.  He was so tired of fighting.  Khan was… no, Kirk was.  Oh for fuck’s sake, did it really matter?  At this point, he was willing to crawl into the cryotube next to Khan just to have the opportunity to escape all of this for a few hundred years.

Everything was so messed up.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“She did not say good bye,” Khan commented.  He wasn’t looking over at Kirk.  Instead, his eyes were fixed on the empty fields beyond the window.  They were leaving the populated areas, nearly to the facility.  His voice was carefully neutral but Kirk knew he was really asking ‘why?’  

Why would a little girl, who only had reason to hate him, tell him good night instead of goodbye or good riddance?  

It was dishearteningly easy to read between Khan’s tightly spaced lines.  

Kirk rubbed his forehead.  Lucille Harewood didn’t want to believe that she would never see Khan again, despite her conflicted emotions.  She knew what it was like to be alone in the silence in a way that Kirk would not have been able to understand without this connection to the both of them.  Each had lived through that kind of torture and Kirk had experienced it with them, in a way.

If there had been less hatred for the man who killed her father, she might have wished him ‘sweet dreams’, in hopes that he would not suffer the silence again.  

But what could Kirk say?  They were being overheard.  

The shuttle descended onto an expansive concrete lot between long warehouses.  The doors opened and a faint breeze cleared the air.  The guards stepped off first and immediately turned with their phasers.  


“She said what she needed to say,” Kirk informed him in the brief moment alone.  Then he too disembarked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good News! I now know where this story is going! More Good News (or maybe bad news?) This story is going to be quite a bit longer than I had ever intended. 
> 
> Up Next: Khan takes his punishment like a man.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Khan takes it like a man and Kirk takes it about as well as you'd expect him to.

There was a small crowd of people gathered around the landing pad.  An assortment of Starfleet personnel and Federation diplomats.  All eyes were on them as they disembarked.  Kirk stepped to one side and watched as Khan stepped down onto the concrete.  His head was held high.  A light breeze tousled his immaculate hair.  He appeared unphased.  Appeared.  He was deep in thought.  That tight line between his eyebrows when he met Kirk’s gaze was proof of that. 

_ She said what she needed to say. _

This was it, wasn’t it?  The time for last words.  Kirk didn’t think he had any last words for Khan.  No words could really convey just how conflicted he felt now, knowing everything he did.  At least, no words that could come out of his mouth in a coherent manner in the short amount of time left to the two of them. 

Already, the guards were disembarking and all Jim could do was stare as Khan stared back at him.

His shoulders sagged with relief when the guards stepped in and ushered Khan forward.  The eye contact was severed.  As Khan and his guards stepped forward to present the prisoner to the people really in charge of the process, Kirk saw his own crew beyond and made his way over.

Bones narrowed his eyes at him the moment he stepped into his line of sight.  Uh oh.  The doctor’s keen gaze was probably taking stock of his pale skin, sunken eyes, and weary expression.  All things he couldn’t hide, no matter how broadly he smiled.  So, he didn’t even try.

Bones was at his side in the blink of an eye. The whirl of the tricorder hummed near his ear.  Kirk swatted it away with the back of his hand and glared at the man he usually referred to as his best friend.  No longer, he swore.  “Get that thing away from me, Bones!” he snapped.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Bones remarked dryly.  He put the tricorder away, at least.  Obviously his irritable behavior was normal enough that Bones did not need to be reassured with empirical data that he was not, in fact, about to drop dead.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, kid.  I know more about it than you ever could.”

“I grew up in Iowa!” Kirk protested.

Bones raised his eyebrows.  “You’re telling me there was more in Iowa than just corn fields and shipyards?”

Kirk pressed his lips together, conceding the point.  There hadn’t been that many cows where he grew up.  

“Now, you wanna tell me what happened?”

Well, crap.  Kirk had hoped being right would distract him.  Obviously he’d gotten a taste for it and wanted more.  Arrogant bastard.

Jim glanced around.  Spock was speaking with Carol Marcus.  She was on crutches, the cast around her leg was perfectly visible under her uniform skirt.  There were starfleet technicians around them, clearly taking notes on their PADDs.  Admiral Bennett was speaking to Khan, who did not appear to be replying.  No one was even looking in their direction, too busy posturing for the cameras or worrying about the procedure to follow.

Sidling closer to Bones, Kirk murmured, “I had a… dream.  On the shuttle.”   
Bones raised an eyebrow.  “You fell asleep sitting two feet from that homicidal maniac?”

“I was awake,” Kirk confessed, grinding his teeth on the words as he said them.

That tricorder was going to come out again any moment, Kirk could tell.  Bones was just itching to diagnose him and fix him with one of those hyposprays he delighted in administering.  He managed to restrain himself.  Barely.   “What was it about?” he finally asked.

Jim shook his head.  “The last moments before…”  He flicked his gaze back over towards Khan.  Beyond the group of officials, the dark opening of the warehouse stood like an open maw.  He jerked his head in that direction, unable to say the word ‘cryofreeze’ at the moment.

“Huh,” Bones said, staring off contemplatively.  “I guess that makes about as much sense as this mess can make.  He’s probably thinking pretty hard about what it was like the first time around.”

Thinking wasn’t the problem.  If Khan had been thinking about cryofreeze, Jim could have tuned him out.  It was the feeling that he couldn’t escape.  The inexplicable, inescapable sense of loneliness that haunted him even now when he was standing six inches from his best friend.  Knowing that it was something Khan was going to be feeling in a matter of moments…

What did he do with that?  Knowing that the monster he should hate felt so deeply and yet so normally?

“I’ll be glad when we put this bastard down for his nap,” Bones grumbled.

“You and me both.”  There was not as much truth to that statement as there ought to have been.

Spock approached them.  His dark eyes flickered across Kirk, assessing.  He no doubt saw the same symptoms as Bones but maybe with a different conclusion.  Whatever he saw, however he interpreted it, he did not comment.  He only said, “I believe we are ready, Captain.”

Kirk nodded and fell into place standing in front of Khan with Spock and Bones on either side of him.  He glanced over his shoulder.  Khan’s posture was the same rigid grace he’d had on the Enterprise.  His face was the same cool disregard for anyone who was not like him.  It was all exactly as expected.  Every guard, every judge, every ambassador would see the arrogant criminal who spared no mercy for people smaller than himself.  

Only Kirk could see a man who had been fighting battles all his life, and was too tired to fight one more.  Only Kirk could see that there was a tremor of uncertainty as they entered the warehouse where 73 cryotubes were sitting, 72 of them quietly occupied.  

The frosted over windows revealed face after face.  These people had no idea what had nearly happened to them.  They all slept on, confident that Khan’s plan would see them safely to a new world.  In all likelihood, they would never wake up again.  They would sleep until the day the ancient technology failed and they died, still sleeping.

Suddenly, the faces he saw as he passed were not the blank, unfamiliar faces of Khan’s crew.  Now, every face he passed was a face he recognized.  Spock.  Bones.  Scotty.  Uhura.  Sulu.  Chekov.  Pod after pod held a member of his own crew.  Kirk would pry open the transparent aluminum with his bare hands to get them out.

The cryotube at the back was open and ready.  They stopped.  Their footsteps echoed into silence in the cavernous warehouse.

Everyone turned to stare at Khan.

At first, Khan didn’t move.  He stared at the cryotube.  A silent, worried expression passed between his guards.  Would they have to force him in?  Would they be able to without a combination of stuns and medication?  Probably not.  No one wanted to linger here, but no one was willing to try and force Khan just yet.

Eventually, after long moments of silence, Khan raised his bound hands, asking to be freed.  No one moved to do it. 

Kirk stepped forward.  He was the only one who could look at Khan and be absolutely certain that Khan was not going to fight them any longer.  He knew that when he stepped into Khan’s space and freed his hands, arms, and feet, he would survive to step out again.  

He could feel every set of eyes in the room on him.  They prickled over his skin.  No one moved to stop him, though, so he focused on the cool edges of the restraints and the warm callouses of the hands inside them.  The bonds clicked free.  Kirk stood there, waiting for attack that he knew would not come.  He almost wished it would.  

When he glanced up, Khan’s face was a lot closer than he had expected.  Khan’s eyebrows were imperceptibly drawn together.

“And by a sleep to say we end the heartache,” Khan said quietly, “and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.  ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.”

Kirk froze, the now empty restraints hanging from his hands.  He took a half-step back, and then forced himself to make another.  He backed away far enough for Khan to move past him towards the cryotube.  

“Shakespeare’s Hamlet.  Act III, Scene I, Line 61,” Spock informed him.

Kirk nodded absently, still watching Khan as the man climbed into his cryotube in silence.  He had known it was a Shakespeare quote.  He remembered enough of that, even if he couldn’t name the exact line of the play.  Were those Khan’s last words?  Obviously they were.  There was no time left for anything more.  But… Those words?  Not said to the world, no defense of his actions, just…  Just a reassurance?  To Kirk.  Why?

_ She said what she needed to say. _

He sad what he needed to say.

What did Kirk need to say?

Khan lay back in his tube, staring up at the steel joists of the warehouse roof.  He glanced over, finding Kirk again easily.  There was silence.  Carol shuffled over on her crutches and stood by the open tube, tense and stony.  The began pressing buttons on the opposite side of the housing, initiating the sequence for cryostasis.   

“Sleep well,” Kirk said, barely hearing his own words over the rush of blood in his ears.

Khan chin dipped in a nod of acknowledgment and turned to face the ceiling again.  He closed his eyes as the housing slid closed.

There was a moment in which nothing happened.  Then the tube hissed and the transparent aluminum frosted over.  Just like that, it was over.  Khan Noonien Singh had been put away like a defective toy.

“Cryostasis initiated successfully,” Carol said from his position looking over the tube’s panel.  

Bones stood next to her, reading the panel as well for indications of stability and life.  “He’s alive and completely non-responsive,” he informed the gathering.

There was a murmur of acknowledgement from those gathered.  No one said anything right out, they didn’t even linger.  They just turned around and began to file past the cryotubes.  Jim stared at the one in front him, no longer seeing it.  Was that really all it took?  After all that fuss, it was just… over?  

He sensed rather than saw Bones and Spock move to stand beside him, flanking him once again.  They remained silent for a few long moments.  Privately, Jim had started counting the seconds until Bones broke.

_ Nine...  Ten...  Eleven... Twelve… _

“Well?” Bones broke in with a surprising tone of patience despite his evident lack thereof.  “Do you feel any different?”

Kirk frowned.  He feel different, but probably not in the way Bones meant.  He couldn’t tell that Khan was gone.  From one moment to the next, it was all the same.  He wanted to feel it.  He wanted to feel some sort of relief or pain, anything to let him know for sure that this was all over.  But there was nothing but the lingering sense of fear and confusion.  

He forced a smile, bright and sunny.  “Better than ever!” he proclaimed.

  
  


\----

  
  


“Thought we’d find you here,” Bones drawled, clapping Kirk on the back.

Kirk groaned into his cup and then buried his face in his arms on the bartop.  “Leave me alone,” he groaned against his sleeve.  

“Not a chance,” Bones replied.  “Bourbon, on the rocks.  My pointy-eared friend here will have a Cardassian Sunrise.”

Kirk sat up so quickly that his head spun.  He frowned to his right at Bones and then whipped around to his left to see Spock settling onto a barstool.  “What’re you wearing?” Kirk slurred, eyeing the informal wear skeptically.  “Are those jeans!?” he squawked, staring at denim covered thighs not 8 inches from his own.  

“The good doctor informed me that it would be appropriate if I attempted to… ‘blend in’ with the culture of the establishments you typically frequent.”  God damn that sassy eyebrow.

“You know Spock,” Kirk said, leaning in extra close to be heard over the din of the bar, “It’s a really good thing I’m a genius or there’s no way I’d have understood a single word you just said.”  He turned back to Bones and leaned in just as close to the other man.  “You told him to wear a leather coat?” he accused.

A glass of bourbon landed on the bar in front of Bones, who took it and sipped.  He raised a finger.  “He chose that all on his own.” Bones defended.

A tall glass with a gradient of blues, purples, and pinks was on the bar in front of Spock.  It was a sweet drink, frozen and blended into something refreshing.  Spock looked absolutely ridiculous with that pink straw in his mouth.  “You don’t have to drink that, if you don’t want to,” Kirk tried to tell him.

Releasing the straw, Spock replied, “I am given to understand that the consumption of alcohol is standard behavior when one wishes to celebrate.”

Oh.  Right.

Kirk licked his lips and slammed back the rest of his whiskey.  He signaled the bartender for another right away.  

Spock tilted his head.  “Also when one wishes to mourn.”

The refreshed glass of whiskey was halfway to his mouth when he froze.  He just sat there, breathing in the fumes from his glass and staring at the bartop beyond.  “You think I’m mourning?” he asked flatly.

Whatever blatantly honest thing Spock was going to say was cut off by Bone’s cutting in.  “No shame in it if you were, is all he’s sayin.”  Bones cast a glare over Kirk’s head at Spock.  Kirk saw it in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar.  

“Well I’m not,” he protested, sitting up straighter and glaring at his friends.  “I’m celebrating!”

Kirk spun and fell of his stool.  He landed on his feet, mostly, but tipped back against the bar with his glass raised over his head.  “A round of drinks on me!” he called to the bar at large.  There a cheer from the bar patrons and Kirk turned to grin smugly at Bones.  “See?  Celebrating,” he added smugly.

“I hope wasting all those credits was worth it,” Bones grumbled.  “Now, sit your scrawny ass down before you fall down.”

He ignored Bone’s entirely and whirled off into the crowd.  He had a hundred new friends thanks to his generosity.  He laughed, he drank, and before he was out of earshot, he thought he heard Bones grumble, “Don’t worry.  He’ll be back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Life sort-of gut punched me there for awhile but, after agonizing over the transition chapters of this story, I decided to just suck it up and post them, even if I'm not 100% on them yet. If I don't post, I'll never finish. And I really want to finish this story for you guys and for me.
> 
> Up Next: Kirk and his FEELINGS.


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